There's something safe, something comforting, that hides in the fog.
It crept in on a smothering silence, I didn't realize it was here until it was already firmly rooted in place.
No time to appreciate it, or revel in it, or contemplate it.
Finals, papers, all-nighters, all at the same time as life.
It lingered, patiently waiting for me to notice... to really notice.
A night, a morning, waiting through my oblivion;
a day, an evening, a night; still waiting;
a morning.
The whisper of the fog in the morning finally caught my eye; maybe I finally caught the sound of an unfalling rain, vestiges of lingering clouds building up on the leves, the weight of the unnoticed heaviness finally crashing to the ground.
I slowly began to open my eyes to the thickness of the fog when I saw the effects of its persistent loitering everywhere: slick moisture on the surface of every resting place, even those under the protection of cover.
Held captive by my car on the way to school, I gave in to the invitation of the fog.
_______________
There's something strange about actually planning an all-nighter in order to finish an assignment for school.
In none of my previous college or work experiences of the past have I ever been able to actually prepare to (voluntarily) lose sleep, to (voluntarily) work through usual rest time, to (voluntarily) push through the dark hours of fading ambition and physical resistance for the sake of completion.
But this time I was.
Knowing I had to produce seven thousand words, coherently, and with valid sources, by a particular date and time, I was able to gather all my resources together, I was able to schedule a full night of glorious, uninterrupted sleep the night before, and I was able to build, ahead of time, the most time-consuming, perfection-demanding, and aggravating section of the assignment; the works cited page.
I barely noticed the arrival of the fog during the initial stretch of writing my paper. It was more of an inconvenience to me, something else out of the norm, while I worked on a project that was just as much out of the norm.
The fog wove itself in between the trees in my backyard and into the clearing, tickling the windows, blocking any and all sources of natural distraction. I was able to focus on my assignment for a full fifteen hours; the clouded intruder silenced the normal sounds of the woods at night. It allowed me to keep my train of thought, even when I stepped away from the keyboard to sate my nicotine habit in the midst of the witching hours; it is only now that I can be thankful for that.
I'm used to the delusion setting in around dawn when I miss sleep; the fog covered for me again by blurring the transition.
This time, my body failed me before my mind shut down.
Unusual.
_______________
I always look forward to breaks. Makes me sound lazy, but in fact, I'm quite the opposite. Breaks force me to slow down, or else I'd just keep going until I collapsed.
This semester is no different. I'm looking forward to the month-long break like a weary traveler, with no plans, no major projects to accomplish, nowhere I need to be.
This longing set in around October, but deepened and strengthened as the weeks went by, intensifying as they went.
Life reared her ugly head during this time as well, testing and pushing every definition, playing scrabble with the words, mixing up the letters, and forcing me to choose wisely; deadlines and assignments still looming, poking me when I wasn't looking.
Break beckoned, like the glare produced by a dirty pane-glass window when the sun shines directly in; knowing you won't be able to feel the warmth until you go outside; when all you want to do is feel it, experience it... but life gets in the way... homework gets in the way... work gets in the way. Before you know it, the sun has changed position, and illuminates something else.
_______________
Held captive, I had no choice but to hear what the fog had to say.
The first indication of the coming intensity was the rain; the view out my windshield blurring as the fat, pelting drops exploded on my windshield, this the only perceivable announcement of their presence, since the cloud surrounding me made every background color absent.
It was quiet. I couldn't hear the rain hitting my windshield, I couldn't hear the whistle of the wind outside my window, I couldn't hear the sound of my tires against the asphalt. No jingling of my keys in the ignition, no rhythmic thump of my misaligned tire. I didn't feel like I was driving on the road at all, but gliding over it, or even flying.
I couldn't see anything outside of twenty feet in front of me. The unease of my usual speed sunk in, forcing me to slow down. I had to pay attention; every roadside hedge became a jack-in-the-box, concealing what may have been hiding behind. Intersections that I would normally fly through with barely a glance now demanded complete scrutiny; I had to look through the edges of heaven on earth in order to see any extraordinary signs of oncoming traffic, dispersed glare from headlights, shadows from metal moving through the mist.
Landmarks became black and white paintings, now forever etched into my memory. All that approached me closely becames vivid, whether a crimson tree on the roadside, or the single leaf falling, twirling, dancing diagonally across my path.
A car pulls out ahead of me, and won't go any faster than a slow crawl. My itchy right foot taps the gas like an addict as my eyes scan the turns ahead. Yet, the fog. I wait, biting my lip for the next upcoming turn that I know will give me the opportunity to scoot ahead. The turn approaches, and with it, the voice of the white-haired wizard whispering "You shall not pass"... which instantly meant less about passing the vehicle in front of me, and more about not getting out of where I am any faster than I should.
_______________
The book arrived in the mail the day I had scheduled to write my paper, a gift to myself that had long been on my wishlist; a treat, something to dive into when I had the time after classes and finals ended.
I set it aside to do my paper, but threw it in my bag the next day in order to kill some time while waiting at school.
I wasn't planning on opening the book, but had a few minutes to kill, so I cracked it open.
________________
Coming Clean.
Like a fog that rolls away, or gets burned off by starlight so bright it burns the eyes.
When the fog is here, everything is close. Quietly intimate, personal.
But when the time comes for the fog to depart, it takes something immense, something powerful, to break the bond that has formed between earth and sky.
Like the sun... whose light has to traverse unthinkable distances, passing through the vacuum of space, and penetrating atmospheres...
still, arriving with the strength to sear the windows of the soul.
