The first time we experienced the morning fog here was shortly after we bought the place. Perry ran outside, and came flying back in yelling "It's pitch white out there!" Since we see no light in the middle chamber, we thought we had woken him up a couple of hours too early and he was teasing us for our error.
Accompanying him outside was like walking into a fairy tale. The box canyon was a place full of airy spirits and we could reach out and touch them and feel their peacefulness.
I don't even know how to share the bliss of walking through the fog here. More recently I watched from the attic windows as the morning fog "dissolved.” Before it dissolved, it seemed like solid things were mist and the mist was solid, and the air held the potential to become anyplace, anytime, anything.