I had appointments up in Boston yesterday (with a church consultant, the minister who’s preaching at my installation, our music director), and wound up driving back quite late. I ran into fog right after passing the height of land that marks the edge of the Buzzard’s Bay watershed. It got heavier the closer I got to the coast; it was heaviest here in New Bedford.

The remarkable thing about fog in the city is that although you can’t see, fog makes the night far brighter than usual, since it reflects all the city lights right back down. As I drifted off to sleep, I kept coming awake and glancing up at the skylight in our bedroom, thinking day was starting to break already.