These photos are from Wednesday when we were fogged in till after noon.
The white mists rose and rose till they were lapping at our windows, and I was reminded of C.S. Lewis's That Hideous Strength in which Edgestow, a University town not unlike Oxford or Cambridge, has been taken over by the forces of Evil in the shape of a quasi-governmental agency called the N.I.C.E. As the evil spreads, a blinding fog grows.
And here we are, led by an incompetent and amoral dunce backed by a deeply cynical/corrupt party/cult, in the midst of a primary that has the arguably less cynical/corrupt party divided against itself.
And the Covid-19 pandemic -- which the Fog Machine-in-Chief wants to minimize, downplay, ignore by withholding information. And the plunging stock market which the same Fog Machine wants to boost by giving more tax breaks or other handouts to (surprise) Big Business. Meanwhile, the White House gets a tennis pavilion. Be Best!
Now my writing class is moving on line and plans for our traditional Easter Party are on hold . . .
And the fog is rising.
