The Rolling Fog

Feel the cold soak through your woolen picnic blanket, perched atop the bones of an old douglas fir. As you breathe in, the chill burns through your lungs, and your exhale is followed by a wispy cloud. It lingers for a few moments before dissipating into the air around you. Your car awaits on the gravel road behind you. The heater may be tempting, but the view is worth every goosebump dimpling your skin.

Doug fir saplings spot the hillside below you, leading to a valley overflowing with a sea of fog. With the sun rising at your back, the rolling waves smolder in the reflection of soft yellows and oranges. The town, hidden among the clouds, is slow to awaken. But as the morning continues, lights add to the flickering flames of the fog. 

Take another breath, but this time take in the smell of grass mingling with the firs in the damp atmosphere. Birdsong pierces the still morning air. They sing their hellos and good mornings before taking flight to begin the busy day ahead of them. Do you see the swallows with their forked tails chasing each other in a playful dance? How about the vultures circling high above in search of carrion?

The fog has been set ablaze as the submerged populace comes alive. Do you notice how the cloud now reaches for the heavens in feathered flames? As the fog burns off, the day finally begins. But feel free to linger here a little longer. Keep eavesdropping on the bird chatter. Focus on the chill washing through your lungs with each breath. And hold onto the fleeting feeling of the air prickling at your skin. Although the day is moving on, this moment is yours to soak in for as long as you need.