Whenever the fog rolls in at the beach I say hello. Hello to its ability to turn the sky from blue to white in seconds. Hello to its beautiful thickness and determination. Hello to the way it drapes a blanket of stillness and quiet across the city with, seemingly, no effort at all in what feels like minutes.
I welcome the stillness and the quiet. It reminds me of the way my mood shifts and waivers. The way I am bright, bright, brightest in one moment and then how I slip into darkness without warning, without much hullabaloo. I just do it. I drift in and out of myself like the denseness of the crowded air that accosts the place where I live, leaving the junipers frozen.
If you ask me, there is no formula for navigating emotions. There is only the large, awesome realization that everything is wild before it changes in a second.
Yours In Unyielding Mist,
Sometimes on Saturday, after we’ve settled back in to our regular routine in the aftermath of our brilliant adventure on the road, we like to stay extra close to our mother just so she knows that, although our brother and I both went on poop strikes because we were unfamiliar with most of the terrain, we appreciated the smells and the snuggles and the running wild and the overall stupendousness that was provided by allowing us to explore the world with our little, happy family.
Yours In Open Space,
William the World Traveler
920. Velcro tennis shoes
921. Salad dressing on the side
922. The term “far-flung destination”