Our car inched toward the wall of fog. It stayed just out of reach, mocking us and relinquishing only a few feet of payment at a time. Cool vapors caressed the car with ghostly fingers. A film coated our windows as if something were pressed against the glass trying to peer inside. Within the haze two shimmering lights floated. Then an oncoming car emerged from the gray and broke the illusion. The road widened to an overlook and we pulled over.

The stark remains of a tree stood on the edge like a sentinel. One bare branch stretched out. It pointed into the mist where the faint outlines of other trees suggested a thick forest lay beyond.

We were alone in the clouds as we left the car. Silently, we crept up to the short stone wall that served as a guardrail. Water dripped from leaves with a flat patting sound. Between the drops the mournful voices of invisible birds called to each other. Standing on the wall, we breathed in the smell of damp earth and stared into the wall of white. Somewhere above the canopy the sun had risen. The smoky mountains had succeeded in keeping the sky gray, but the sun’s rays penetrated enough to make the mist iridescent.

As the morning aged, the mist slowly released its grip on the scenic byway. Overlooks gave hints of a world outside the fog. Swirling clouds parted. A land of green fields seemed to float in the sky. Then the clouds shifted, and the scene became the valley floor far below.

We could now see short distances into the woods. A tree with three trunks rose like a trident. A suggestion of oceans that once covered the land before the mountains rose into the clouds. Thick vines looped over branches and trailed to the ground. They swayed and shivered like twisted ropes hung by forest guardians to aid in their travel through the branches. Green moss clothed the tree trunks, and flowers poked their heads above tall grasses.

By lunchtime the skies had cleared and traffic increased. Others like us had come for a respite from the heat and confusion of the city. Scenic vistas now stretched out in brilliant splendor at every overlook.

We sat on the stone wall and drank our coffee. Thin spirals of steam rose from the cups in a faint imitation of the morning fog. But the white curtain had lifted. Below us the valley was bathed in sunshine. No longer could it be mistaken for a land in the sky. The air was clear and crisp. The creatures of the mist had retreated into the depth of the forest. A wisp of gray clinging to a cluster of trees in the distance hinted of their presence. They rested and waited. Soon they would once again make their way to the road and interact with the travelers.

http://www.nps.gov/shen/planyourvisit/driving-skyline-drive.htm