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Fog

It rolled in silently while we were all sleeping.

Our windy city had no puff to defend herself against this determined visitor. Slowly, but surely, it rolled in from the sea. It continued to weave its way over the hills to cover everything in its path. Eventually it settled into place. A massive white fluffy duvet had been thrown over us. It is possessive of everything beneath it.

Fog

The fog comes
on little cat feet.

It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.

Carl Sandburg

When I got out of bed I went to open my bedroom curtains. I couldn’t see anything outside my window. At that same moment my daughter yelled out “The fog is back!”

I could make out the shapes of everything that was familiar to me but nothing was clearly visible.

Fog consumes Wellington

Fog turns the ordinary and the everyday into something mysterious.

Our world is temporarily hidden from view. What would it be like if this situation was permanent? I hate to think.

Fog is not always a welcome visitor. It can create a lot of disruption; as I know only too well.

“I wonder if the airport is closed?” I ask myself as I continue to look out the window. Fog has hindered my travel plans on numerous occasions in the last year. I remind myself that it wasn’t all bad. In hindsight, no matter how chaotic things may have seemed at the time, I eventually sorted out what I needed to do to get to where I needed to be.

Maybe the fog arrives on purpose to remind us all to stop, to slow down, and to appreciate what we have here and now.

When the fog lifts it reveals the everyday beauty we so often take for granted. It is magic. Our focus is now sharp and clear after the dullness of the fog. The light is bright. We look, and we see our paradise. Our world is revealed to us once again. We are somehow changed although all too often we are too busy to notice.

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