Huntsville, October 2026
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Fogs are rare here, and when they do arrive, they vanish almost as quickly as they form.
That morning, the mist felt like a quiet gift—until I drove into the canyon and realized it was a trap. The whiteout was so dense the winding narrow canyon road simply ceased to exist, swallowed by a dense wall of grey.
In Huntsville the fog wasn't so dense and the familiar trees seemed to melt into the air, transforming the ordinary world into something haunting, bewitching, and utterly alive.
Everything had frozen into silence, and there wasn’t a living soul in sight. Only foggy world and I. That was the exact moment my landscapes stopped being just places, suddenly I knew I needed to bring human presence into my landscapes.
Generally, life is good.
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