In an early poem, The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock’, T S Eliot likened the yellow fog of St Louis to a cat - “That rubs its back upon the window-pane, The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes, Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening, Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains, Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys, Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap, And seeing that it was a soft October night, Curled once about the house, and fell asleep…” “Up up up past the Russell Hotel, Up up up to the Heaviside Layer.”