A joke about fog

In early autumn, the misty earth, like a gauze, covered the golden fields, heavy ears of grain and small villages. White clouds in front of us dance like ribbons, winding between trees and fields, and the world seems to be in an illusion.

Thick fog permeates between heaven and earth, as if a very thick and wide curtain had fallen from the sky. My sight was completely blocked by fog, as if it were only as big as my eyes in space. We sat in the car, and the fog got into the window and lingered around people and feet. The trees by the roadside can only see a black shadow.