In the south and middle of england, we are bogged down with fog. Not the most pleasant of weather, but actually if you haven't got to drive or fly anywhere, it's quite cool. I have been enjoying walking the dog and freaking myself out with wierd shapes that turn out to be trees, hedges and other mundane things!
And today it occured to me that walking on a foggy day is a great metaphor for our life journey - you can only see 100 yards ahead, and it is only by keeping moving you can see what else is for you. In the half light, you can see something that looks like an obstacle, but only when you reach it can you see that the road actually turns sharply left. If you'd stopped, you'd never have known that the obstacle was not insurmountable.
Also, you can scare yourself with half seen things, and made up nightmares...but they're not real. As you keep moving you can see the trees, hedges, cars, and cats (not a banshee, then). It occured to me today that (as long as I don't have to drive in it or try to fly anywhere) I do quite like the fog. There is something wierdly comforting and peaceful about it. And I quite like the adrenaline rush and visual conundrums. I also love that I am in the house sat on the heater!
Love
Donna.x
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