As morning fog spread a wet blanket over the city, just one faint light penetrates the soft gray. When the sun begins its ascent over my neighborhood, defiant pink fluffs appear in the southeast sky and the clouds overhead shimmer like organdy. The fog, like waves ebbs and flows throughout the morning. Once the mountain appear for a brief moment. I don’t recall ever seeing it quite this brilliant, except in a dream I had about a year ago. Today I grab my camera to remind myself of the dream of the shimmering mountain. I still wonder who the fourth child is that we unbuckled from the car seat to lead to the neon mountain. I know the other three.
Back to this morning. Soon, I leave home for a class and afterwards, wander north to the tip of the peninsula formed by the river that defines our city. Tucked away in a quiet neighborhood is one of my favorite haunts, The Evergreen Arboretum and Gardens. January is not the most promising month in a garden, but I muse that perhaps I can find some interesting fog worthy of a picture or two. Beyond the chain link fence on the municipal golf course, two trees hold hands comforting themselves against the mysterious gray.
Even in the January gray I find brilliant blossoms like elegant ribbon looped and knotted and clipped.
Meandering around the arboretum, a flutter of movement catches my eye. Curious, I stop and turn around. Seeing nothing, I question if it might perchance be an angel. A mystic once told me that when you see unaccounted for movement out of the corner of your eye, it’s an angel.
I pause to draw strength from a row of mighty sequoias while nearby more fragile trees stand motionless amidst the January gloom.
Not surprisingly, the tough daphne bursts forth in brilliant splendor while spider webs cling to promising buds.
And pods cling to leafless branches, a trio of persistence in the midst of winter.
The time came to hurry home. The fog is lifting in my neighborhood, so I pull into our local park perchance to catch some sunbeams filtering through the trees. Instead, I catch a fog bow, only the second I have ever observed.
Have you ever seen a fog bow? I remind myself that last time I had only an 18mm lens, not nearly wide enough for nature’s white wonder.
After walking about the park, I chat with a dog walker about the fog bow, She has never seen one before but observes that she felt strangely drawn to this park today. She mentioned that as I walked amongst the trees she saw a second shimmering being clothed in white in the general vicinity where I walked. She said as I approached her the second being disappeared. Hmm. Perhaps there is an angel skirting my outing today.
Lying on the couch this afternoon, I look out the window to see a huge polar bear like cloud rising behind our house. I wonder about its significance. Is it an angel, too?
This afternoon, I learn of the dreadful atrocity carried out today in Paris against men representative of freedom of the press and freedom of speech. I quake at such violence challenging the basic human rights we so take for granted. My mind returns to the flag pole and how limp the stars and stripes hung today. Not even a flutter.
Tonight candlelight vigils were held in France and beyond. I wonder about the angelic hosts who may be hovering just beyond the veil of human awareness overlooking these gatherings in the great cities across the world.
I wonder perhaps if the fog bow and the angel and the great white bear in the sky are reminders calling us to look beyond human solutions in matters that trouble the soul. Today, in my neighborhood, at least, the sky catches our attention. It is hard too ignore the comings and goings of the fog curling to conceal and then reveal the navy and the city and the mountain and the bay.
Tonight, I pray that our hearts may cling to the message of The Lord’s Prayer that it might be on earth as it is in heaven. I think of that winter night 2000 years ago when the sky filled with angelic voices declared, “Peace on Earth, Good will toward men.”
Marlee Huber ~ For Your Flourishing Life!