I live at one of the highest elevations in my area. Specifically, at the base of the highest peak in MA, Mount Greylock. When the weather is right, thick morning fog settles in the valley towns and around the small hills molded around the mountain.
Above the shelf, the view warm and serene.
Below, downtown, is dark and damp.
Completely different worlds, just a mere 2,000 feet away from each other.
On the days when this occurs, you can drive into town and hear a plethora of folks bothered by the “bad weather” (I’ve found it incredibly common that people will not only let the weather determine their mood, but also feel compelled to complain about it), having no idea that this cloud cove...