Hidden in the fog

Foggy morning.  (Strong winds last week, or maybe it was the week before, knocked out a panel of wood on the door of the shed.)

Water, stories, the body,
all the things we do, are mediums
that hide and show what’s hidden.

~  Rumi

Slowly baring all.  (There’s a spider web bonus for those who look carefully.)

The clouds descended on us yesterday in the form of fog, and stayed until well after noon.  I was surprised to see it hang around that long.  Usually the sun will burn it off or the wind will carry it away shortly after sunrise.

Out in the meadow where the fog weaves in and out.

I went out just before sunrise, or what I surmised was just before sunrise since we didn’t actually see the sun until later in the day.  Foggy days usually find me walking around the meadows looking for spider webs and glowing dewdrops.

Back Creek hidden in the fog.

I started towards the meadows, and made it as far as the scrounger’s garden (some of which is pictured in the image that started this post), when my body decided it wanted to go through the woods and out to the dock instead.  My mind was a little surprised by this, but willing to go along.

An island illusion.

I am often awed by whatever instinct it is that sets me off in just the right direction on these early morning walks.  It’s not something that will often happen later in the day.  Maybe that’s because I’m too awake later in the day, and less willing (able?) to let instinct guide me.  Yesterday was one of those mornings when I looked outside, dressed, grabbed the camera, and stepped out the door without caffeine, without thought, without a plan, without expectations.

I made my way through the woods, listening to the drip of dew and the call and drumming of some kind of woodpecker.  Little birds rustled in the tall marsh grasses.  There were scratches on the trail, and deer tracks.  It’s rutting season and the bucks (whitetail deer) are on the move, leaving bare patches on the ground and markings on the trees.  When I got close to the boardwalk that leads to the dock, I heard water splashing and my first thought was that someone must be kayaking on the creek.

I caught someone fishing off the dock.

Standing on the dock, I heard more splashing going on around the bend in the grasses.  I couldn’t see who or what was over there.  Maybe it was a deer trying to get away?  I was still on board with a kayaker or someone canoeing because it just sounded like someone in the water rather than someone trying to get out of the water.  Then I noticed a strange thing.  Fish jumping along the shoreline.  Not just little fish, either.  Some of the fish were a good size.  They were jumping ahead of something moving towards them.

Blurry, but clear.

It was the otter!!  I have caught glimpses of an otter swimming around in Back Creek, but I’ve never been able to get a good look at him or her.  I waited in stillness (the hummingbirds taught me how to be a statue so I know how to do this well), watching the fish and the ripples in the water, and right near the dock, less than four feet away, Otter popped up!  How do I know it was less than four feet?  Because I had my telephoto lens on the camera and it will not, ever, focus on something less than four feet away.

Well, Otter must have been just as curious about me as I was about him or her because he or she hung around for a while, sometimes looking straight at me.  I greeted Otter and Otter greeted me, and then he or she went back to chasing the fish.  Breakfast, as we all know, is the most important meal of the day, and when you have to catch your breakfast, you best get it while the gettin’ is good.

Are there any fish over there?

Otters awaken curiosity.  They remind us that everything is interesting if we look at it from the right angle.  They are playful and seem to have fun at whatever they are doing…

… Honor otter and it will teach you not only how to have fun, but it will reawaken a new sense of wonder at life and all things within it.

~ Ted Andrews, Animal Speak

On the dock later in the day, after the fog lifted.

What an awesome gift the early morning fog brought!  I left the dock not long after Otter took off, and wandered back to the house, knowing that what had drawn me out had taken place and anything else was a bonus.

Thank you so much for stopping by today.  I am going to have to apologize once again for not keeping up.  I try.  Truly, I do.  I am in the medical loop (as I think of it) right now, and it’s keeping me occupied to some extent.  I will tell more when I know more, but don’t worry.  All this vagueness isn’t hiding something terrible.  I’m still looking for information and I don’t want to speculate because sometimes the mind goes off in directions I’d rather it didn’t take.  At any rate, I’m hoping to visit you at your place (blog) soon.

The roses are still blooming.

It’s chilly and rather gloomy today so I don’t think we’ll be able to watch the sunset.  The clouds are so thick that I doubt things will clear out within the next hour.  Sunset today is at 4:52 PM.  I might go out to the dock anyway.  You never know what might happen.  Meet you out there if you’re willing.  Let’s go without expectations.  That way, we’ll be surprised by whatever happens.

This morning’s sunrise through the garden maple.

Be good, be kind, be loving.  Just Be.  🙂

Today’s joys:  The compassion and kindness of those I’ve met in the medical community here; the rainbow colors on the sweet gum trees who are holding on tight to their leaves; a pair of Eastern Bluebirds greeting me this morning; another early morning walk in the woods (no Otter this morning, but it was still nice to be out on the dock during sunrise); M, because he’s always a joy and I don’t want it to ever, ever seem as if I’m taking him for granted.