The fog has settled over Sonoma County tonight, and the temperature has dropped to 40 degrees already this evening. I realize it is ridiculous to call that freezing, but for a California girl, the fact that it was cold enough to wear a sweater AND a jacket while out picking up kids this afternoon felt like real winter.

From my desk, the not-quite-night sky is a cottony gray, and the bare branches of my sycamore trees look like slashes in the sky. I can't help look for the outline of Peter Pan or some other hint of magic in the mist.

I love it when it is foggy. While I'm also a big fan of a starry sky or a crystal clear vista, the swirling sky outside my window seems to tamp down any sounds from the outside, putting the focus on what is inside. Like taking a hot bath, and dunking your head under water - suddenly it is only your breathing, your heartbeat, and the movement of the water. Fog feels the same way to me - the rest of the world disappears, and it is just my house, my family, myself, breathing, hearts beating, moving through the stillness.

It's a good night for a fire in the fireplace, a good book, and a warm kid noggin resting on my shoulder. I think whatever we read needs to include a little bit of magic on a night like tonight.