October 24th, 2013

Fog is something I feel like I have never been properly introduced to until I moved to Poland. Here the fog is thick, luscious and atmospheric, often feeling like a Hammer Horror movie set and half expecting a Vampire to emerge. But no, it’s just a big velvety blanket of nostalgic goodness that makes me crazy with its cinematic presence.

I love the way shadows fall and lights become hazy glowing orbs. I love that you can hear footsteps on the street or clicking on cobblestones far before you see anyone in the heavy shroud. I love that it leaves me in a childlike trance, giddy for the remainder of the day. I love that it makes me want to call in sick on myself and play hooky shooting out on the streets, absorbing the fog and every moment that passes. I love how it hides the adult in me and lets the child run free. And I especially love how it makes people tell me that I love fog because it hides the ugliness of the city, which is so far from the truth its laughable. I love foggy days and now I’m looking forward to the next visit. Until then, enjoy this.
Love Letters to Poland

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