This morning, a layer of early morning fog promised serenity and calm as I rounded the corner from home. Silhouettes of tall pines against the mist spoke mystery, and the sky was still salmon and coral, tinged with violet and a color I can't name. Oh, how I wanted to park the car, put on my sneakers, and traipse through those woods to find a well-worn path. Or maybe one not so worn.
But I had to be somewhere. On time. And somewhere was somewhere else.
I purposed to wake early tomorrow, pray for the same weather conditions, and round that corner again. Will I? Can I? Or was that a moment to be appreciated for just the moment it already was?
Somewhere On Time