A Hazy Shade of ... Autumn?

See, the thing is, we live in a swamp, basically. Or maybe "marsh" is a better term, since "swamp" suggests oppressive heat and humidity, which we only have about half of the year.

The Lake County (Illinois) Forest Preserve District prefers more gentile terms, like wetlands or "savanna." But this part of northern Illinois is essentially a swamp, and honestly, no rational people would have built on it.

But here we are, in a vast, remarkably wet, overly populated, soggy stretch of horse farms, shopping malls, and subdivisions. From here to the Wisconsin border.

So it's no surprise that our Tuesday morning walk was foggy. The combination of wetlands and nearby Lake Michigan makes us prone to fog, especially in early fall when the temperatures dip down into the low 50s.

By the time we headed back home, the sun was already burning it off:

A little eerie and kind of beautiful, our morning walk through the foggy marsh was a bit of a respite. Because as soon as we exited the path, we saw the usual morning commuters tearing through the neighborhood at 40 miles per hour, blowing through stop signs, and dodging school buses. The morning fog be damned.

Just another thing I haven't quite gotten used to since moving so far away from civilization.