  Fog is crawling on hands and knees, like a toddler around the buildings outside my window. Thick as swamp mud, it creates new visions of the tall silent giants. Full of mornings; coffee smells and tired eyes, hangovers and chatterboxes trying to get used to today. Buildings in this city are sometimes beautiful art but other times ugly expressionless blocks of cement and windows, only serving their purpose to have elevators and rooms. In this mysterious fog however, they are looking at each other through slanted eyes. Not on alert, but seeing like we do. They are free to expression because they are not so much on display as usual, they are not visibile the whole way around and therefore can breathe. People can't see this. People go about in their cars, finding their parking lots and doorways to life. The buildings stand above them, for a few hours - or at least until the fog lifts - they can emminate feeling into the moist air. Whatever they choose. Older ones push confusion and mis-sights into people's eyes. Younger, more attractive buildings breathe dreams into lovers reach, the fog has no limits.
They are no longer part of the scene, but helping create it. But this Fog, it prevents sight. I cannot tell if the sun is rising, or blaring above my head. Gray is changing the colors of everything to just drab. Trees are still sleeping, the birds don't know to wake them up yet. Preventing my view past the freeway outside my apartment, I cannot see the lake and the hill or even the Space Needle.
It appears I am on an island where I-5 is the border. The businesses in the big buildings aren't worried about their reports or meetings - their only concern as of 8am is making it through the fog. Don't get eaten by the drab, stay alive! In this weather it is easy to get sucked into bed; warm covers and sweet soft light lulling you back to sleep.
It's lovely creativity floating through me, with the fog in my eyes. I can see only four blocks away in every direction and I love the feeling of cold, expect the feeling of unstability outside because this town wants normalcy. The weather her is anything but. People complain when it's not sunny - or sunny but not warm. Not all of them; some revel in the changes and it gives them energy. People like me, who welcome the seasons and tire of the warmth, the too much sunny days and not enough rainstorms, lightening, and snow in the mountains. 
