A Foggy Morning Walk

It is rare for the fog to linger so heavy, and I cannot resist a morning walk. The mist is thick, like a fine rain, and everything is shrouded in grey. I know the buildings I cannot see are filled with people working, but it’s unusually quiet and still as I walk the path around the lake.

The random sounds of birds and the occasional splashing of ducks seem to hang in the air as they pull my mind away from temporal concerns. I enjoy these moments and feel gratitude that the spirit and mind are not bound by the mundane.

Despite pressures, requirements, and expectations, I yet feel a sense of wonder and awe. I hope to never lose this or the desire to seek after that which stirs the soul in such a way as to bring forth passion, balanced with a quiet reverence.