   When I went for my early morning trek to the barn I could see the moon overhead and it still was big enough to cast some light over the dark farmstead. The light was bright enough to outline shapes and help me to avoid walking into or on something. But things had changed by the time I drove my children to school.
  A soupy fog enveloped the countryside and it was hard to distinguish the cars that were ahead of me on Highway 18. The fog was even heavier on U.S. Highway 2. I opened my window to merge from the county road onto the highway because I didn’t feel comfortable only relying on sight.
 Once I joined the traffic heading east on 2, I quickly figured out I had to  drive more slowly than usual because it was nearly impossible to see the cars ahead of me until I was nearly on top of their bumpers.  Â
  Driving through the fog felt a little surreal because I couldn’t see the usual landmarks that tell me where I am. I was suprised when I came to the Magoo’s Tattoo sign along Highway 2 near the intersection of Highway 2 and 5. I hadn’t realized I was that close to Grand Forks. It occurred to me that the saying “I haven’t the foggiest.” was appropriate for what I had just experienced.
  I don’t like fog. I am a person who likes light whether I’m outside or inside. If my kids are watching television in a darkened room I immediately flip on the lights. Meanwhile, in the summer I can tolerate pulling the shades down during the day because I know it helps keep the house cooler, but the first thing I do when I return home in the evening is to lift them up and let the evening light shine in. Good thing I’m living in North Dakota where fog is a rare enough occurrence that it’s worth noting.
