Foggy Melbourne
It's been unbelievably cold and foggy in Melbourne lately; Saturday was apprently the coldest June day on record in the past ten odd years.
The picture above is my exam hall and it's pretty much the view that greeted me when I went for my Equity and Trusts law exam on Monday...and it's been like that nearly every other day since. On Friday, on my way home from the gym, I could literally see the fog creeping along the river and settling over the city.
The city's been a stranger to me lately, what with the fog shrouding the trees and wreathing about the bushes. Some nights, the visibility really isn't more than ten metres or so and I get so cold even indoors with my heater on.
Then I remembered this poem I read at 14 and loved...only now I see it so much better.
When you can't beat it, you can always romanticize it I suppose. Here's Fog by Carl Sandburg.
Enjoy.
Fog
The fog comes
on little cat feet.
It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.
By Carl Sandburg
posted by adinahaes at 4:20 PM
1 Comments:
"The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the windowpanes,
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the windowpanes
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep."
You recognize T. S. Eliot's fog and cat concatenation to open "The Love Song Of J. Alfred Prufrock". Or should that read "concatnfogenation"? I sure loved that poem when I was a college youth. My wife is a great fan of Sandburg. She recited a poem of his to me at our Buddhist wedding and I recited from e.e. cummings!!!!!
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