Raven’s RV
The ongoing education and adventures of two rank newbie RVers

I adore the sensation of freshly dried clothing — its warmth and poftiness.

Oops, did I just channel my inner Taurus?

I was up early this morning, early enough to see the thick shroud of fog around the area. I’m not great at judging distance, but about four spaces down was pretty much obscured. A thin sun peeked hopefully through the haze.

There was a magnificent bird of prey perched on the fence near our rig. I think it may have been a buzzard.

There’s something magical about the fog, the way it sucks in light and images and leaves you guessing what might be on the other side. I don’t mind it at all, so long as I don’t need to drive in it. It’s mysterious, and gray, and in its own way beautiful.

Most days, it burns off by noon.

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