Waylaid by Fog
I must go in, the fog is rising.
Emily Dickinson
Emily’s Final Dream
Hush now, the fog has come-
a spirit has laid his body down
settling over the village:
Slowly, quietly, she leaves the warmth
of her little house
and crosses the dewy lawn.
Passing by, she notices
how a dandelion, long gone to seed
now sparkles with diamonds.
She steps softly over the grass
onto the wooded trail beyond.
The fog spirit,
with its cool, liquid, murkiness
directs her gaze,
obscuring what doesn’t matter,
revealing only what is needful.
Step by step it leads her through the woods.
Silhouettes of trees appear in slow succession,
a line of soldiers passing-
looming large, then fading from sight
on either side of her path.
The soft thrumming of a woodpecker
draws her eyes upward,
where the last few oak leaves
begin their tumbling, twirling spiral
down to the forest floor.
She watches until they land.
She is being led to the river,
to a small clearing
where a narrow dock reaches out -
a beckoning arm.
She walks along to its end
where the muted light of the sun
Is barely visible through the heavy mist -
It’s more like a full moon than a star,
with reflected light glimmering softly on the surface of the water.
To her left, stands a tall dead branch
curving upward in the milky light -
reaching toward the unreachable.
The sight fills her with a deep longing
to understand this final mystery,
this tugging on her heart toward something beyond.
Where is the gentle spirit leading her?
In the way of dreams, she suddenly comprehends
the wisdom of resting in the unknown.
Everything she needs to know is here now.
She takes a final step forward.
The fog has come.
She must go in.
The opening quote by Emily Dickinson is reported to be her final words her death.
A foggy morning this week made me change all my morning plans and go for a walk at the River Bluff Park in Saugatuck.
I paint the fog - I think of its fresh moistness - its stillness - its mystery.
Douglas Lockwood
I am so grateful that I have the freedom to make choices like this one. I love the fog, and whenever I have a chance to be in it - I try to seize the moment.
I decided to write this week instead of next, since next week is the Thanksgiving Holiday in the U.S. and we will be busy cooking and visiting with friends, neighbors and family. I hope all of you who celebrate have a wonderful Thanksgiving Holiday.
Thank you so much for being here. See you in two weeks!
The fog seems to bring emphasis to every silhouette; give meaning to every dark shadow.
Mind the Rain
Let the rain kiss you. Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops. Let the rain sing you a lullaby.
Langston Hughes
10/26/22 - Rain clinging to a limb, reflecting the trees.
The tree in autumn
I feel
cold water
sliding
over my bare skin,
clinging briefly
to my outstretched limbs,
then falling -
soaking the earth
beneath me.
Nourishing
my roots.
I drink
deeply,
drunkenly,
falling asleep.
10/26/22 - Bare trees held by a raindrop.
All winter long
I rest,
naked and cold -
dreaming
of beautiful green garments
i will wear
in spring.
10/26/22 Clinging
The evergreen clings to the raindrops in its needles.
10/17/22 - Rain falling in the stream
Rain is grace; rain is the sky descending to the earth; without rain, there would be no life.
John Updike
10/26/22 - Acorn Cap
If there is magic on this planet, it is contained in water.
Loren Eiseley
I stopped for the sky this morning. It was raining but the sun was shining in the east and the light was golden. Parked my car on the shoulder. to look and get a picture. The wet pavement reflected the whole sky - doubling the magic.
When I turned back to get in my truck - to the west - this is what I saw:
A second Look at Squirrels
Small birds throw seeds out of the feeder; large birds pick them up off the ground, but the squirrels try to muscle in. - Lilian Jackson Braun
10/05/2022 - Long stretch to the suet
We battle over
bird seed and suet.
you climb
the skinny pole,
slippery with grease
and
holding on with hind feet -
stretch your whole body
to grasp a bite,
while i sit
in my warm house
watching,
waiting to run you off.
10/05/2022 - Squirrel Eyeing me cautiously while climbing to the bird feeder
Do you wonder
out there in the cold-
why I would
tempt you
with sweet morsels
10/05/2022 Black Squirrel on Red Feeder (looking fearful)
then come out yelling
and waving my arms
when you eat them?
October 7, 2022
scurry and dray
small and light
they float
over the earth
arcing their bodies
curling their tails
float.
arc.
curl.
a soft rustle
of leaves
a pause.
float.
arc.
curl.
a leap.
float.
into (or
out of)
the trees
always.
to scurry
or
dray.
(A group of squirrels is either called a scurry or a dray - but scurry is how they move, and dray is what their nests are called…)
October 2 - October 7, 2022 - I found a pile of acorns on the beach before sunset on Sunday night - and had the bright idea to make a squirrel shape in the sand with them… I always think of squirrels when I see acorns … I thought it would be fun to take a picture of it every day - to see the decline…as it happened; the whole thing stayed intact for days. Until a storm came and it disappeared. My footprints are where it should have been in the last picture. It’s the nature of ephemeral creations - you can’t predict their endings.