FOG

    The fog is so thick this morning I feel like I fell into a bowl of soup. The weather indicator says the visibility is 1.5 miles, but in what part of the beach I don't know. Here I can barely see to the end of the street. But I can hear the surf. Sound seems to travel farther when the humidity is high. I'm not very scientific so I don't know if that is reality or just my perception. Of course everything is damp. I let the dog out for a few minutes and had to rub her down with a towel before I brought her back in. Water drips from the eaves and gathers in puddles on the windows. It is warm too. 70 degrees when I woke up this morning. This is not a phenomenon that happens very often in Colorado, and never this damp. I'm glad I'm in Florida for I love the fog. It tells me the Gulf is near. It tells me there is more water than I'll ever need here. I love the fog, the way it hangs over the palm trees and permeates the air is somehow comforting, as if the Source of all things is surrounding me and keeping me safe. As if the thick moist air is God's arms caressing me, holding me, telling me all is well. It reminds me that though I can't know the future I can trust that all will be well. Fog is my metaphor for love, for I know I am surrounded by and consumed with Source's love. I need not stress or worry, for love conquers all. In the fog of life, as in the love of Source, I am safe.