The last few mornings when I’ve woken up early with Theo, this is the view off the back deck. The light just changing from grey to a hint of pink, with a heavy cloak of mist suspended just above the ground. It’s silent and beautiful and kind of eerie, and if I’m in a particularly dark mood I imagine myself as a character in that Stephen King novella, The Mist.
Otherwise? I pretend we’re in Forks. Embarrassing, I know.