Mist

Saturday 9.46am

There is something comforting about a misty day. Some days I want to look out upon distant vistas full of possibilities. On other days the world seems just too big, too full of insurmountable problems, and on days like these I need to be cocooned and feel safe from it all.

Coming home does that and I get the same feeling when walking surrounded by mist. The world becomes much smaller as I walk protected within my little bubble of light. Sound is muffled and all I can see are faint shadows, hints of what might be out there. There is a childlike innocence here as well because the ethereal shapes out there could just as easily be fairy castles as trees and rocks.

Within my bubble there is a brightness as the light is diffused and comes from all around, the colours yellow and green glow as if lit from within. Gone are the harsh shadows of reality. Here in my little patch of Scottish Autumn or New Zealand Winter I feel as if I have stepped off the train of life for a while and can draw breath, relax a little and gather myself ready to continue on with life . . .  




“So what becomes of the little boys who run away from home. The world just keeps on gettin’ bigger when you get out on your own.” Tom Waits