March 2026 SOLC–Day 17
A huge thank you to Two Writing Teachers for all that they do to create an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write, learn, share and grow.
http://www.twowritingteachers.org
I love reading Kim’s slices every morning. She lives on the west coast and thus posts after my early-to-bed bedtime. Her posts are always beautifully written and filled with all sorts of nature and book love, and classroom inspiration. Usually I read them after I’ve already sliced for the day, but this morning I was scraping the barrel for something to write, so I detoured.
This year I’ve found loads of ideas for slices, but then find myself not wanting to write about most of them. Too negative…too boring…too hard… I guess I’m perennially in search of the Goldilocks slice idea, the one that’s just right. Kim’s post this morning was about her foggy walk on the beach (here) . I’ve already written about a foggy visit to the marsh this month, but her post reminded me that I’d had a lovely fog-bound commute to work earlier this month that I hadn’t written about. For some reason Kim’s slice and thinking about the fog also reminded me of the beginning of “Mending Wall” by Robert Frost–“Something there is that doesn’t love a wall…” So, with a twist, that’s where I began.
Foggy Commute
Something there is within me that loves the fog
how it presses gently in from all sides
and ground oft-trod or traveled
leans into mystery
how trees emerge along the horizon
their branches entwined with low clouds
then fade and disappear
and even farmyard clutter
and early spring muck
take on a hue of beautiful
with edges smooth and indistinct
I travel over a bridge
and the river beneath
is but a memory
Nix the comfort zone 
Beautiful. I love the last line and the easy flow of the whole poem. We had a foggy morning as well. I couldn’t see the other side of the river, and it’s a narrow river. Today it’s back to brisk and clear, and I can’t see spring on the other side of the week.
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Thanks! I love your ending line as well!
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What a nice opening line from Frost, “Something there is within me that loves the fog” I love that from coast to coast, you and Kim are communicating through fog.
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Kim’s photography and writing is such a great inspiration. We definitely have some interest overlaps!
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[…] I read about fog from Molly and Kim, quietly hoping for a foggy day to catch a […]
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A beautiful marriage of poetry and the visual. Masterfully created “how it presses gently in from all sides
and ground oft-trod or traveled
leans into mystery
how trees emerge along the horizon“
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Thanks. Fog is endlessly fascinating to me–how it reveals and conceals.
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Fun to read about fog. I am working my way through a book called Chasing Fog by Laura Pashby. She is from the UK and this is short essays about fog. I will have to check out Kim’s post as well.
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Do you recommend the book? I love the title!
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Your imitation of Frost’s “Mending Walls” makes such a great beginning line. Your descriptions are so beautiful with such well chosen words. Like the fog you write about, line after line flows seamlessly aided by the enjambment and absence of punctuation and capitalization. I love it… but perhaps it is because, I too love a foggy morning. There are too many lines for me to mention them here.
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Thanks, Alice. I so appreciate your thoughtful comments!
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Beautiful, Molly. The description of the fog in your poem is striking…”a hue of beautiful
with edges smooth and indistinct” I’m glad you found inspiration in Kim’s post.
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Love, love, love this poem about fog…I want to come back and savor it again and again. Thanks so much for the shout out–I do think we have much in common (and much in contrast). Inspiring one another–definitely the major perk of slicing in March!
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Thanks for sharing this! The fog is so cozy and eerie at the same time.
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I enjoy a good fog too, the kind that ‘presses gently in from all sides and blocks out and makes the entire world a round me a memory.’ My favorite fog to photograph ss fog covering the ground like a downy blanket while trees and barns poke out up above.
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