One foggy day

The fog was so thick this morning I wondered if I had been scooped up in the wake of Brigadoon.

I half expected bag pipes to swirl through the mist and wondered if  highlanders might be materializing behind the trees.

Of course Illinois' flat corn fields are a far cry from Scottish moors and mountains, but there is something magical around me.

I keep trying to place it, but Alice's rabbit holes and Brigadoon's elusive village are someone else's dreams.  This one is mine.  Uniquely mine and I wouldn't trade it for the world.

Perhaps, someday, I, too, will be able to put it into words.

Right now I am simply lost in the beauty of it.