a story of Southern agriculture

Foggy Autumn Mornings

Contrast is often where beauty and meaning are most notable. I appreciate this tension more sometimes than others – depends on mood, stamina, chocolate intake, etc.
Synchronized vistas are well-suited to wall art.

Journal Date: 10/28/13, the crisp autumn early mornings beckon, Monday

It’s that time of year in the South when we often have heavy fog in the morning.  I think it has to do with humidity and how much the temperature drops overnight.

Ah, yes, humidity.

We can’t see the cows…until about 9am. ;o)

foggy autumn-3

We haven’t enjoyed this foggy view since spring.
The world is bathed in warm light breaking through the fog…

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…and then a cloud blocks the sun and the world turns blue.

College psychology class comes back to me – “outward environment reflects inward environment” – which was probably only meant for commentary on messiness that I should organize – still, when the sun is out, I enjoy its glorious early autumn morning take on things like life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.

When it’s behind the clouds creating a battleship gray morning, I feel the stark change.

I snap a few blue pictures and wait.

I think on how it’s unlikely during this season to have one without the other, so I zip up my hoodie a little higher and wait for the sun to shine.

No, the sun is shining.

So, I’m actually waiting for clouds to move.

foggy autumn-3

foggy autumn-4 The sky never did run out of clouds that morning.

 

 

foggy autumn-1

Contrast is often where beauty and meaning are most notable.  I appreciate this tension more sometimes than others - depends on mood, stamina, chocolate intake, etc.   Synchronized vistas are well-suited to wall art. Contrast is often where beauty and meaning are most notable.
I appreciate this tension more sometimes than others – depends on mood, stamina, chocolate intake, etc. Synchronized vistas are well-suited to wall art.

 

 

 

In a world where images of reality are highly processed – everything from landscapes to wrinkles – I realize waiting for the sky to run out of clouds may be a sort of learned behavior.  A sort of blank stare at the horizon while the subconscious keeps my feet planted in the conviction that a touch of the digital will happen here shortly.

Except it didn’t.

And then a cow moos from the dense fog…”Get mooooving, BoB, you’ve got coyotes to hunt – they like morning fog – it extends their night hunting shift.  Carpe coyote.”

I toss her a grin, which she probably cannot see, and head to the house.  Somebody else can wait for clouds to move.  This chick is picking up her feet and moving forward.

“I press toward the mark,” says the Apostle Paul from the archives of my Southern church upbringing.

Then…from the historic halls of hoop-skirted cinema…

“After all,” Scarlett says, “tomorrow (pause for emphasis) is another day!”

I don’t move clouds nor tell the sun how to shine.  But, I move, and I find myself less hung up on clouds that change the hue of the mornings.  I’m finding love and contentment grow well with patience and acceptance.

Best,
Emily Grace

What are your thoughts on life, contrasts, mornings, acceptance? (:

3 Responses to “Foggy Autumn Mornings”

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