It lingers. That’s what it does. It waits, hiding in the crevices and valleys, snaking through the fissures and low points along the Earth. April is usually a good month for fog in the Northeast. The chilly nights keep moisture close to the ground and it vaporizes and rises when it is heated. This is how the Sun “burns off” the fog. The romantic side of the experience could be likened to the faint perfume of a beautiful woman that has already left the room, or even more abstractly the melody from a song you heard yesterday that drifts in the recesses of your mind. Both are as ephemeral as the uncapturable fog. I like to refer to it as a cloud that has lost the will to fly.

Nikon D800 Nikkor 28-300mm f/3.5-5.6 @ 52mm f/18 ISO 100 1/20 sec