Yesterday evening, as we grew closer to the cabin and higher in elevation, the colors of autumn began to appear. First it was tinges on a few trees and then whole trees here and there stood out as if ablaze. Reds and golds – especially maples – stole the stage from the evergreens and blue mountain ridges.
Occasionally a sudden downpour of rain would hamper our progress, and then it would pass and we’d be back up to speed. Of course, the minute we reached the first gate to our property, it started raining again. But even through the wall of water, one of our maples greeted us in golden glory. I could hardly wait to arise this morning and see the sun peeling back the dark sky and illuminating our painted hills.
This would not be the case.
I awake to zero visibility due to heavy fog. An hour later, it still hung deep across the sky. But shapes of trees were becoming outlined in the milky landscape and I could appreciate the beauty of the colorless surrounding almost as much as I had anticipated the display of colored leaves.
But I’ve always liked fog, as long as I don’t have to drive in it. It has a romantic, gothic, contemplative aura about it that fuels my creativity.
Sometimes we miss the simple beauty of a single tree when there are so many more just beyond it. But when the others aren’t visible, the one overlooked becomes a magnificent sculpture.
I’m going to sit outside on the deck with my cup of coffee and just enjoy the fog! After all, there is beauty in everything if you are open to seeing it.
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