I live in a valley three blocks from a branch of the Chenango River in Upstate New York. Once August has made its final exit, the early mornings always start with a thick blanket of fog. Before all of the cars and buses head out for the day, the morning is filled with a silence that seems much heavier than before. The fog muffles the sounds and distorts it so that, without being able to see anything but only hear, we could be in some strange, distant land for all we know. Of course it speaks to the child in me that still loves a good fantasy.
The other morning I was sitting at my desk quite early trying to see my beloved hills in the distance when I heard the sounds of two blue jays calling to one another. Because of the fog, the calls weren't as sharp and distinctive as they would be a few hours later when it all cleared out. They sounded like they were searching for each other, each one lost and alone looking for comfort. It reminded me of what we humans can be like when we let someone or something distort what we see and hear. The news, the politicians, and all of the constant barrage of negative talking blankets our senses so that everything we see and hear is distorted by fear and anxiety.
It occurred to me that morning that, once the fog was blown away by the morning breeze and melted by the appearance of the rising sun, those two blue jays would be just fine. Maybe we should take a lesson from them, and from old Mother Nature, by blowing away the fog of negativity and fear, and letting the light of the rising sun every morning burn off any doubts we may have that we will be able to find our way, to each other and to happy, productive, and positive lives. Perhaps the fog in our lives is as easy to burn off as turning off the TV and internet, and joining the blue jays outside in the light of a new day. After all, the birds know a heck of a lot more than we do. They should, they've been here longer. Food for thought, folks!
And so it is.
