This video made us nostalgic for fog. Fast-moving, blind-siding cottonball fog. Fog that slips its hands up the front of your shirt or pants death’s doggy breath down the back of your neck. Fog that tiptoes in on kitty cat feet, dissipates in the night on punk possum paws. Fog’s ebb and flow mirrors the Cloud Atlas structure: A-B-C-D-E-E-D-C-B-A. Sometimes I just plain ole miss FOG.