@Boeing There's a good side to so many of the things that we often just think of in negative terms.
Keats wrote about fog, but at the other end of the year:
To Autumn:
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; Conspiring with him how to load and bless With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run; To bend with apples the moss'd cottage-trees, And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells With a sweet kernel; to set budding more, And still more, later flowers for the bees, Until they think warm days will never cease,10 For Summer has o'er-brimm'd their clammy cells.
