Foggy Morning

There are times we love our fog in San Francisco, but not when it lingers day after day, blocking out all warmth and changing the light into a hazy gray. At those times, when everybody else is celebrating summer, we are lost in our own fog.


Some of us become deeply depressed and fantasize about other places -- Hawaii, Florida, Mississippi -- where the temperatures are high and fog is an oddity that burns off the grass early each morning.


Today, I awoke in a fog; it is burning away slowly. It is not good to be alone in a foggy season; it is essential to connect with others. To reach out and share your aloneness.





As I continue to write about our isolated society, I feel encouraged when we are able to somehow find one another in our times of need, but worried that we also often don't really know how to ask.


It is hard to articulate what I am searching for any longer. Life has become so foggy. I think I know and then it becomes elusive. Maybe I know but I'm just not sure.

I'll have to wait for the sun.