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Saturday, August 15, 2009

Fog in the Valley

On mornings like this, with fog rolling into the Patapsco river valley, I miss living in old Ellicott City the most. A lot of years have passed, since I lived there, but it still remains the place that I've lived the longest. On foggy mornings like this, I can still imagine the lonely train horns echoing through the valley, hear the rustling river, see the moisture in the air, and the persistent green of the vegetation. I can still hear them where I live now, upriver in Sykesville, but it's just not quite as picturesque.
Posted by at 7:06 AM
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2 comments:

  1. Thanks for some great memories of a unique town. Your mention of morning fog reminded me of the great pleasure of coming home. For several years I worked in the bowels of the beast, going five floors down to retreive my car. A ten at night the area around Hopkins Plaza still baked like a brick and I hurried to get up to speed to stave off the feeling of suffocation. Ten minutes later, all windows down. I'd be plunging down 9 Mile Hill, descending into a dark paradise of cool, moist fragrant air and mist, hushed with tree whispers and river murmur. Mercy. I felt like stripping naked and thanking God everynight. I usually stopped in the Pheonix (fully clothed) for a beer instead, but I'll never forget this and so many other intense pleasures of coming home to Ellicott City. Thanks for the memory. This one's a keeper.
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  2. I LOVE the foggy mornings, too. My house is along the river, and it's quite a sight. It's kind of mystical.
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