fog

So I grew up here on the Central Coast and throughout most of my childhood the mornings would be quite foggy.  A thick and dense marine layer often rolls in here, either at sunset or sometime during the night so that most springtime mornings I remember waking up to clouds reaching down to my back fence.  I would usually layer a sweatshirt over my shorts and t-shirt, put on some flip-flops, and head out, knowing that even with the damp and cold start to the morning, it would only take and hour or two before the sun would peak out, the fog would begin to retreat, and it would be a warm, sunny day.  I grew up with that pattern and I remember complaining about the damp and cold mornings, especially when I was on swim team and had to jump into the outdoor pool at 6am.  And yet somehow it never occurred to me that the fog was familIar... until I left and came back.  I left home for college in 1997 and then left California in 2001.  And of all the places I lived, those locations never experienced that coastal marine fog I grew up with.  I did not miss it.  In fact it was so far from my mind of missing those foggy mornings that I remember one rare day in Washington DC (probably in 2013) that a fog settled over the Potomac River and my children noticed. asking why the clouds were so low.  I realized I had not really seen that familiar fog of my childhood in years. Then of course during the summer of 2016, the kids and I moved to California.  And that first year my mind was all over so I guess I did not really notice the fog.  But it is springtime again here and late spring into summer has the foggiest mornings.  So it has been quite foggy most mornings recently.  I find myself waking up slowly, as one does when the sun is not beckoning the eyes to open.  And I feel a sense of comfort as I open the blinds and see the fog blanketing my entire yard.  I feel a sense of familiarity as I hear my teenager complain that it is damp and cold every morning but then gets hot by lunch - words I remember saying.  I feel a sense of awe of knowing there are hills in the distance, that are usually in full view, but they are all completely hidden in the cool stillness.  I guess I am really “noticing” the fog in this season right now and there is something so beautiful in it to me. It really feels like an embrace of familiar comfort and security in a world that has often felt non-embracing and unfamiliar and uncomfortable and not secure.  The fog makes me want to curl up on my back porch with a blanket, a cup of warm tea, my study Bible, and just sit in the clouds, praying, listening, feeling isolated, and yet feeling safe, like the fog is a secure place to just wander through my thoughts, process my feelings, and sit for awhile.  I have noticed that when the late morning rays of sun begin to peak through, I almost feel disappointed, like the sunshine that is about to come out full force is disrupting my peaceful solitude or may be harsh and exposing.  Which is such a silly thing for me to say because I love the sunshine!  I love love the sunshine so much!  But the process of watching the morning fog retreat as the mid-day sun emerges has recently been stirring something inside me that makes me bristle.  I guess in this season, here and now, I will enjoy the gift of God’s peace and embrace the security of the blankets of fog.  Maybe I desperately need the visual reminder that God is near, nearer than those low clouds.  My prayer had been that God “remind” me, in very tangible ways, of his presence because I am a creature that SO often forgets.  Thank you, God, for blanketing me with your presence in this season when things feel frighteningly wide open.

grey still morning, distant hills have disappeared in the fog ☁️

sunshine just peaking through late morning 🌤 

warm afternoon sunshine ☀️