I drove to my parent's home in Cloverly today, where I spent a long time with my grandmother. I did get to play the kokle, and she sang along to the folksongs in her high grandmother voice, as she does. "Kur tu teci, kur tu teci gailītis mans?"
I'm getting to know the road there and back pretty well. Over the last weeks, it's been nice to see the trees rusting over, but now the leaves are mostly brown and starting to fall. It only seems appropriate, then, that the fog came on them today. They were mysterious all over again.