October 15, 2021

The Fog Also Rises

A special welcome to more than 20 new subscribers who signed up after I posted that I would no longer be posting my photos on Facebook. Your kind affirmation means the world to me.

Yesterday morning, I didn’t know how thick the fog was until I was, well, in the thick of it. My headlights illuminated perhaps one to two yards in front of me. I slowed down to 10 miles per hour and eventually found the turn off to where I always park my car. I was unable to focus on anything.

6:38 a.m.

The sun wasn’t due to rise until 7:16 and it typically took 25-30 minutes to break through the horizon — I clearly wasn’t going to see the light of day anytime soon. But . . . but . . . what about the light of that car I hear coming?

6:39 a.m.

Hearing a car coming in the other direction, I turned and captured this:

6:43 a.m.

Exactly an hour later, sunlight and not a car light illuminated the same tree pictured in the above photo.

6:43 a.m.

These other photos from another purview capture the progression of the fog lifting and the sun rising yesterday morning.

7:01 a.m.
7:34 a.m.
7:36 a.m.
7:44 a.m.

What these images taught me: Adversity is much like a fog in our lives. It slows our pace to a crawl and sometimes brings us to a complete stop so we can better see the beauty that is unclear before us.

25 Comments

  • A shout-out to Adrienne who, when I was describing this post and pondering the title, “Fog Rise,” suggested, “The Fog Also Rises” which is much better.

    Again, much gratitude for the support of friends who are new subscribers. I hope it wasn’t and/or won’t be a hassle to try and outwit the WordPress gremlins. Thanks for your persistence.

  • An acrostic inspired by your words and wondrous images and Adrienneā€™s title. How fog lends itself, indisputably and expectedly, to Facebook.

    Fog
    Also rises, but first clouds our
    Common landmarks, guidelines for
    Effortless navigation,
    Both actual and philosophical.
    Orientation, essential to eye & soul,
    Obscured. Canted/slanted
    Keeled by shady misdirection.

    • First, thanks for your comment. Second, an ACROSTIC! Double thank you.

      I believe your 6:01 comment had the correct line breaks. Is your 6:14 comment not a duplicate of your 6:13 comment? I want to respect both if it is.

      But to ACROSTIC itself and the fog of Facebook — so clever and spot on. I love your thoughtful and creative perspective on most anything and couldn’t agree more with your perspective on Facebook.

      Sorry to be approving your comments more than an hour later. No comments are posted/published until I see them first . . . I was out in the fields for this morning’s sunrise where my internet is spotty. By the way, all of your comments showed up in my junk/spam box. [I am silently banging my head against my computer monitor.]

    • Feel free to delete the many resends. New platforms, new learning curves in posting. I didnā€™t think any of the latter ones went through. They arenā€™t important.šŸ˜³

  • I was also thinking about how much photography is about capturing the presence or absence of light, from the most fundamental nod to the grand gestures of nature or the human interventions such as automobile lights in the fog. To seize these moments, it seems to me, is not different then snaring an illuminating expression for a poem.

  • I, too, appreciate your insight along with the photos and believe that it quite aptly applies to the fog of adversity shrouding our nation. It is a good reminder that as the fog lifts, this, too, shall pass.

    • Thanks, Beth. I am very concerned about the divisions in our country. I never thought of looking at the fog lifting as a reminder that this dark time will pass. Your perspective, as always — and all ways — helps. xoxo

  • Each photo is stunning. “Better to see the beauty that is unclear before us.” We need that kind of encouragement when the greater world often seems so dark–in a fog–maybe there is beauty and hope if we slow down and look expectantly for the beauty and hope??

    • Charlotte — your comment mirrors Beth’s or perhaps Beth’s mirrors yours. Doesn’t matter. You always — and, like Beth, all ways — ask the right questions. xoxo

  • Sharon, I loved your description of what you learned. What you have written is really profound. Thank you so much.

  • You are really developing an eye for detail in your photos, much like your ear for detail in your writing. They compliment each other beautifully.

    • Wow, thank you, Judy. You have an eye yourself for Mother Nature, particularly her feathered, winged creatures. I appreciate your taking a moment to post your perspective. Love your avatar image. xoxo

  • A few days late, but grateful nonetheless. I love everything about this. The beautiful photos. The wonderful adversity-fog lesson. The insightful and inspiring comments. Thank you for allowing me to join. I wonder if the final photo at 7:44, with so much going on, captures the essence of current circumstances for many: shadowed stalks in the foreground, the fog still present, trees left and right, and clouds seemingly crossing above in different directions; all the while, the reason for going out to the field constantly present and centered, yet tantalizingly distant.

    • Itā€™s 4:45 a.m. on Wednesday, October 20, and what an incredibly thoughtful comment to wake to. Thank YOU, Chris, for joining the Spark and Spitfire community.

      I never noticed how much was going on in the 7:44 photo until you pointed it out. Now I want to look more closely at all the images. Just so you know, I copied your description into my journal. So beautifully articulated. Welcome.

Comments are closed.

Discover more from Spark and Spitfire

Subscribe now to keep reading and get access to the full archive.

Continue reading