Fog Rolls In
One Picture/One Paragraph
Stepping from the shower of our tiny bathroom, I open the window to let steam escape. Fog has rolled in. It’s winter but the temperature outside is unseasonably warm, and I lean out the window, surveying our backyard. As far as I can see there are woods. On days when I am feeling close to nature, I call the yard a forest. On days when I am feeling creative, I call it a garden. Every fall we push the leaves from the front yard into the woods and marvel at how they decay and make the soil rich. We watch as branches bend and sway and occasionally a tree will topple as though its time has come and gone. I hesitate. Is this view really worth running downstairs to get the camera? Especially as I am still soaking wet, wrapped in a towel. I remind myself to let go of judgment. It’s not a gamble that the effort will be worthwhile because the reward is always in the seeing. I’ve already won.