Writing

Sometimes There’s Fog

joe strummer quote art

There’s a fog that rolls in off that particular coast, in that specific spot. It happens often but most have gotten accustomed to ignoring it. It doesn’t last longer than it should. No use bellowing about what will blow over soon enough. Ya just gotta wait.

That fog, and the reason it rolls in, has got something to do with the climate, the sea, and the mountains to the east. I don’t pretend to understand it fully. Can anyone, really, know how it all happens. That’s not really a question.

The sky was blue that day, dotted with white in a picturesque fashion, pretty as you’d like, but a fog came and enveloped me anyway. If I had my druthers, I’d have gone with the soft cotton of cumulus but we can’t always get what we want.

The fog wrapped me up tighter than a bundle tucked beneath a towering Douglas Fir. What was missing was a shiny red bow, a hug, and the happiness of youth.

A man in a fog

It could have been over, all of it, right there between the water and the high desert peaks.

There were onlookers who, I could only imagine, had mouths agape. I don’t know, I never turned around. There seemed no point in looking back into the fog.

I walked past the oval vanity mirror in the center of my room, said goodbye only to the tired old man who was looking back, and landed straight onto the king sized bed, straight onto the smoothed-out comforter housekeeping had prepared as if for this exact moment. They are accustomed to the fog and know what it can sometimes carry with it.

I stayed flat-packed there for hours.

Upon waking, nothing looked changed from my easterly view on the 7th floor. The sky was there, with its familiar colors. The city still alive beneath me and, I presumed, the mountains were standing as they have been for ages. I felt changed though. Rested and less confused. The fog had lifted, as it does. The trick is patience and not complaining out loud.

My phone, which slept beside me, was lit up like a Christmas tree; there were notes of concern, well wishes, requests for a chat when I’m ready. It felt good to know there was family still out there, patiently waiting too.

Sometimes, that’s all we need — a bit of patience, a little understanding, a note of concern, and a few hours to pass by peacefully.

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2 Comments

  1. Your writing makes me happy.

  2. Your reading it makes me happier, Aaron. Thank you as always, my friend.

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