“I see a lot of fog and a few lights. I like it when life’s hidden. It gives you a chance to imagine nice things, nicer than they are.” — Ben Hecht
One of the many joys of having dogs is waking up and taking them out first thing in the morning. This day we enjoyed a quiet walk in the fog and misty rain. I’ve always enjoyed this weather. It adds a sense of calm and serenity to our surroundings. Noise disappears in the mist, and as we walk along, it even silences the crunch of dry leaves beneath our feet.
Fog conveys a sense of solitude. Some may find the isolation unnerving, but I find it a comfort. The entire world seemingly shrinks to a small area centered around me and my dogs. It is meditative; lost in my thoughts where the cloudy walls of grey hold the rest of the real world drama at bay.
But the mists whisper mystery and possibilities to my imagination. As the trail disappears into the fog my mind wanders, transporting me to other times and places. I travel the muddy dirt streets in San Francisco during the Gold Rush, then along the eerie cobblestone gas-lamp lit avenues of Victorian England. I retreat across the soggy moors of the Scottish Highlands after defeat at the Battle of Cullen. I stand watch on the bridge, listening to the ship’s forlorn foghorn miles from the shore.
It is an empty grey canvas for my imagination, and I paint stories to my mind’s delight.