The fog hangs low between me and the distant horizon. The tree line feels further away than usual. The dense opaque white mist hangs between us like a sheet. But I know it is penetrable, simply water molecules suspended in mid-air. This water vapor is not a solid veil, it is permeable and gentle. It lingers over the marsh below, creating a mixing place for the tidal waters and the cool air above. It is a mixing place for my imagination too.
When the boys were little and we woke to foggy mornings that were so dense we could not see the trees across the field, I used to joke that it was the kind of morning when you expected to see a pink rhinoceros emerge. As the boys got older, they rolled their eyes at the “mom-ism” but, still embraced in the wonder of childhood, I knew that they approached their days with open curiosity and a clear sense that everything was possible.
For me, the mystery and potential in those thick foggy days was an opportunity to remember what I had forgotten in the process of growing up. As I wondered about the pink rhinoceros that was just out of sight, I wondered about what other fantastical beings or events were just beyond my sight. I wondered about the mysteries of creation. I wondered about Mystery and Creation.
Eventually, out of the dense fog of my wondering, the pink rhinoceros emerged to welcome me back into the chorus of all life, one among many. With possibility penetrating and surrounding us, we walked together, back into the cloud of Love and Light that lingers on the horizon.