Mystery

There are some days when the air will not clear, when the sun does not break through, and the mist chooses to persist. No amount of waving at the fog and wishing for the yellow sunlight to shine as you demand will make the tiniest of differences. On those days we can step away from our normal expectations and definitions. We can receive a gift of freedom from clarity.

We can receive mystery and suggestion, and if we embrace this new state with fuzzy edges, we are encouraged to make connections in the fog and grasp at straws, for there are no concrete answers, no hard edges to the truth. More is possible when we look at the world through a shroud.

In the mist and the fog, all things are related. A dew drop decorated spider’s string will lead to a diamond dusted dandelion which then in turn echoes to the outstretched naked limbs of a tree seeking spring. One follows the path of the other, and leads us down it as well, if we are willing.

Can they be one and the same? In the mist they can.

So swirl and dance and sway in the fog, twirl and drink in the joy and hidden promises of the mist. There are many many sunny days in my neighborhood, and much fewer days that soften the glaring clear reality and therefore highlight mystery, by wrapping up our vistas with a cloak of suggestions.

Please come back tomorrow for a new “Weed Image of the Day” and let me know which ones you like.

We and our weeds are so much more than what we first appear to be.

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