Typical night for me. In the bed around 1am and asleep within 5 minutes. But 30 - 45 minutes later I'm awake. A little after 2 I put my sweats back on and head for the recliner. Sometimes when I can't get to sleep in my bed, I can in my recliner. I write on my iPad for awhile, or read news, or just listen to some songs.
Tonight, before I turn music on and lay down again, I walk out back. It's a cold, crisp, clear night. Orion shines brightly directly overhead and the red eyes are heading for LAX.
At first unseen, the fog comes in from the east, over the badlands, along the edge of the hills that form the northern boundary of My Lake. When it hits the water it accelerates and gains density. It moves quickly across the suface and jogs south when the lake does. Soon it covers the base of the foothills across from me, eerily lit by the parking lights at the college.
I slip back inside the house, because I know it will be heading my way directly. I'm not afraid of it, we're old friends now. But I also know you shouldn't appear to be standing in its way. I close the French Doors, and, standing in the family room peer through the glass at the advancement. Sliding across the water, enveloping the kayaks, moving up the slope and through the wrought iron fence, licking at my windows, and then, just sitting there, inches from my face, getting thicker. Soon it will block out the stars, the lake, the world. I'll be on an island all by myself, just like I want to be.
I head back to my bedroom, anxious for another perspective. At the doorway from the hall I stare through the locked slider, the thickness taking me aback. It's never broken thru, but now I don't, can't feel safe. My body tenses up, then I reproach myself for my silliness. I take my sweats off and my head finds the narrow pillow.
It's beautiful! It swirls in every direction. I know it has my house surrounded and continues to spread. Thinking how wide it must be I fall asleep to the tunes in my favorite ‘fog’ playlist. I can sleep again.
I awake early in the morning, just after five. There's the slightest appearance of light in the sky. I sit up in bed and look at the solid appearance of the fog on the other side of the glass. I can't perceive where the fog ends and daylight begins.
I see forms moving on my patio, and know they are my cats. The cats have no issue with the fog, it is what it is. They move silently, stealthily, assuredly through the density, looking for a morning snack.
I put the sweats back on with my running shoes. I open the slider in my bedroom and make my way down the steps to the dock on the edge of My Lake. The cats follow me, brushing my legs when I’m still. I carry my tripod and camera and set up on solid ground at the side of the dock. I wait for more light, and as it breaks thru, the fog starts to give way. I can make out a few pinkish clouds, and record them reflected in the lake, with what now seems more like mist. Its thick enough I can’t actually make out the sun itself as it comes up over the hills, but the reddish light it's giving off fills my photos and tans the surface of the lake. Little streaks of light move across the water, in and out of the airy shreds of last nights fog.
Now its gone, burnished by the mighty sun, which has cleared the clouds and announces itself. Its just a normal morning now. I carry my tripod into the house, set it upright at the end of the room, and lay down on the recliner. One of my cats settles in between my bare feet, warming them. As I pass into sleep, I remind myself I need to go to the Dentist at noon.