Musing

-2C/30F, dense fog finally lifting, every bare path & sidewalk & windshield coated in ice-film, skating optional, pratfalls likely . . traffic no longer crawls cautiously; Gusta wishes she had even longer toenails; wet-faced from the fog we adjourned to walk later when it warms up

dense fog, as if nothing existed beyond a couple hundred feet is strange in the morning; last night it was like a movie set waiting for suspenseful action . . . or maybe it is about suspending reality for a bit, for remembering & reflecting

7 yrs. ago today my dad saw my mother for the last time, unaware she would die the following morning, unaware of the fog he would find himself in

long out of the fog, he is happy & well – yet still wearing a ring I cannot persuade him to remove

long over his ‘I should have stayed with her longer that night’ angst, he remains grimly traditional & unwilling to contemplate something new with someone new, notwithstanding numerous opportunities

dense fog lifting, we come out of the fog to revel in sunshine in anticipation of first spring showers predicted tomorrow

spring showers that wash away grime & memory of winter

foggy now, then sunshine, then showers . .

Mark

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