Piercing an autumn’s mist

This morning’s fog was lacking the smell of salt air and the haunting of horns, but it came close to bringing me back to Cape Cod Bay. It also reminded me of the time in Minnesota when I literally had to follow a fog line at the edge of the road to drive most of the way to a deer camp Up North. It’ll be interesting to see if conditions repeat again during this week of unseasonably warm weather to trigger more misty mornings.

Did you know that a Minnesota-born artist, one who specializes in outdoor themes, David Maass, has done several “misty morning” paintings around subjects like ruffed grouse or mallard ducks? My Maass prints are mostly incorporated into a book, A Gallery of Waterfowl and Upland Birds, which includes Gene Hill stories. I’ve not read them for far too long. I’ve just added it to my winter reading list.

misty October morning

Photo by J. Harrington

The picture above, of the fields behind our house on a misty morning, shows fog neither as low-lying nor as thick as this morning’s, but it was taken on an October day much like today. I’m thankful that the “red gods” used this morning’s fog to remind me of the good times I’ve enjoyed hunting and fishing and just being outdoors during October. If today's contentious times and their customs are wearying you, try an awe walk. That’s all for now.

Morning Poem

by Mary Oliver

Every morning
the world
is created.
Under the orange

sticks of the sun
the heaped
ashes of the night
turn into leaves again

and fasten themselves to the high branches ---
and the ponds appear
like black cloth
on which are painted islands

of summer lilies.
If it is your nature
to be happy
you will swim away along the soft trails

for hours, your imagination
alighting everywhere.
And if your spirit
carries within it

the thorn
that is heavier than lead ---
if it's all you can do
to keep on trudging ---

there is still
somewhere deep within you
a beast shouting that the earth
is exactly what it wanted ---

each pond with its blazing lilies
is a prayer heard and answered
lavishly,
every morning,

whether or not
you have ever dared to be happy,
whether or not
you have ever dared to pray. 

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