Thoughts on a Foggy Morning

 The words were burned in German on a simple wooden placque found in a second hand shop in Orlando. The chapter and verse were clear: Psalm 121:1



The King James Translation-

"I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help."

The irony of finding a wooden plaque about hillsides in flat-Florida- it was meant to come home with me. To hang on the crossbeam on the gate to the hinterlands. A bit of stain, some dabs of paint and coatings of polyurethane and it serves as a reminder that when I need help- I just need to look up and ask.

The morning fog obscuring the clutter of details lets the mind settle on sillhouettes. 

 

Just down the steps there are wildflowers. Queen Anne's Lace 'Daucus carota' transports  me back to impossibly romantic drives along country roadsides where crickets and frogs compete for which gets to sing the lead and who is relagated to harmony. 

Such is the magic of a foggy morning.  The dew suspended in the air holds cares away. I forget that I am aging faster than my bucket list is emptying. I forget the financial folder lost so much weight that it doesn't have the health we worked for it to have. I even forget that crows aren't just birds to shoo away. They are also the feet of the lines radiating from the corners of my eyes. 

 On a foggy morning I don't remember that. I remember that there is a God who made it all.  I suspect He shakes his head at how seriously we let temporary problems dam our happiness.