Monterey ยท dawn
The Fog Gives Us Salt
the quiet enemy

Window glass, brass, the seam of a mirror. It waits where a busy eye skips over.

the remedy
"Soft cloth, warm water. Con amor, the salt lets go when you slow down."
the trade of care

You cannot stop the fog. But greet it each morning, wipe it clean, and buy another day for the things you love.