In A Fog

Foggy woods

It was so wonderfully foggy last night. We don't experience fog very often in this area of the world, but when we do, I always feel a strong pull to head out to the woods to do nothing more than melt into the fog. It's like natures sauna, only without the heat.

Fog softens the senses. Sight and sounds are both muted, and the shadowy forms of our local deer resemble my own. One would not easily be able to tell us apart and I find that oddly comforting.

I think Mary Oliver expressed the feelings that fog evokes for me better than I can, with a passage from her beautiful poem October.

"One morning
the fox came down the hill, glittering and confident,
and didn’t see me—and I thought:

so this is the world.
I’m not in it.
It is beautiful."