Fog rolled into our area overnight. When I got up this morning, I could barely see across the street. Fog brought many thoughts to mind. I find it rather eerie, depressing, frightening when driving, and more. It's also a good subject to write about, or to include in a story you're writing. Fog lends itself to poetry, too. One of Carl Sandburg's most famous poems is titled Fog. Very short but memorable.
Several years ago, while on a trip, I wrote a short piece about fog and our writing world. I can manage to turn almost any topic to something about writing. I've included it below:
In the Fog
I pulled aside the heavy draperies of the motel room window, hoping to see sunshine. Instead, I found a misty rain and light fog. “Fog again!” I said to my husband who stood before the mirror shaving.
We’d driven in fog the morning before when we set out from home to travel southeast, in hopes of finding a pocket of warmth during this winter month. As we crossed the hills of south central and southeast Kansas, we ran the gamut from a little fog to heavy curtains of it, blocking the view of the tallgrass prairie we normally enjoyed when driving this route.
I searched the road ahead for tail lights of any vehicles and the headlights of those approaching. At times, one would rise up from the fog, seeming to appear in only an instant. I watched the side roads, worrying that a truck or car would pull out in front of us before they realized we were there. Ken kept watch as he drove, and I offered one more set of eyes to help him. Fog frightens me almost as much as icy roads.
What upsets me the most on a foggy day is the number of people who drive through it with no lights on. “What kind of idiot drives in fog without any lights on?” I’ve repeated this statement on many an occasion, never receiving any illuminating answer, other than some smart remark from my husband.
We left the motel on this second morning of our trip, feeling relieved that the fog appeared to be very light. Euphoria lasted only a mile or two, as the arms of heavy fog wrapped around us and held on tightly, as though a lover who would never let go.
Sometimes we move through years of our writing lives fighting fog, never being able to see clearly to our goals. We let that vaporous air surround us while we sit and wonder why our writing journey doesn’t move faster or rise to a level we’d hoped for long ago.
Sure, we set goals at the beginning but how hard did we work to achieve them? Did we give the ultimate to reach our goals? Or did we take it as slowly as those cars driving through the fog? Did we drive ourselves hard enough and fast enough? Did we search for reasons that we weren’t accomplishing what we’d set out to do? All good questions for which you may or may not have answers.
Maybe we should set another goal to add to our earlier list. Let’s move out of the misty fog to see our previous goals more clearly. Then work at each one with a new attitude. Trade the I can’t for an I can. Let’s move through our list of goals with a new fervor
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