The Siren Mists
We’ve been experiencing very unseasonable weather here in the Midwest. Last year on this day we were dealing with severe ice storms, power outages and dangerous roads. Yesterday (and today, most likely) there were joggers in shorts and reports of crocus breaching through the surface of the soil. The earthy moist smell of Spring has been in the air and it takes a moment to remember this is supposed to be the worst of the winter months.
This morning after the usual runabout in the pre-morning darkness of school buses and shuttling the blessed spouse to work, I came home and began my usual email and internet surf over a cup of coffee. Glancing out my window I realized a heavy and thick fog had enshrouded our nearby woods.
In seconds I had bolted from my chair, grabbed the camera, the tripod and thrown on my shoes. I was outside in a blur and had managed to forget my jacket. This happens to artistic folk, even more so with photographers, who understand the fragile and delicate mix of light, environment and time.
Why are misty woods so magical? Is it the constriction on the senses? The softness? The quiet? Sitting quietly in gray woods it is not hard to feel connected to something, to feel a gentle peace swirl around you. It can be a time of mysterious, magical peace.
It is said that when mists are thick it is a sign nature spirits are about. Obscured in the gray, they can move more easily, drifting just on the edge of eyesight, gliding on dampened leaves. I believe such a thing is possible. I asked the crows who flew by but could not understand their answer.
Mists form pocket domains and much like life, it is difficult to see where you are going. If you decide to move forward you can see only your next few steps. In looking back you may know where you have been but you can no longer see it. Your world is only that which either you move to see or the mist allows you to see. Perhaps this is the magic of fog and mist?
A physical reminder that we are simply walking in the middle between the past and the future.