It was easy in the summer. I’d see the slightest ray of amber light and realize, “There it is — the crack of dawn.” These days, that aperture is invisible, and I keep getting fooled into thinking it’s still nighttime. I like to start my days before anyone else does. There’s solace in looking out the window and seeing no one; I feel like I’m getting a head start on something. And you know me, I may be a people person — once I crank my lever — but in the AM, I prefer my own company over the elbows of a crowd.
My house was cold and damp, so I shut the bathroom door and turned up the heat before I sat down. I’d already put on a pot of coffee; it’d be ready by the time my routine was done. Don’t buy No Name brand is the lesson I’m learning — as I guzzle my way through a two-pound tub of that bitterness. I checked the sports and the babble on the news, pulled on my hoody and was out the door.
I’d stepped into another world.
A thick fog had blanketed everything. And I’m talking about a Jack-the-Ripper on the streets of London thick. I couldn’t even make out the house across the street. I took a path to the lake, hoping to take some pictures. My fear was accidentally running into some angry Canada geese and ‘fowling’ up my morning. As I walked, I heard silence; even the voices in my head were muted. By the time I’d neared the water’s edge, that ephemeral gray vapour… had ever-so-slightly begun to dissolve.
A raft of ducks and a gaggle of geese greeted me as I ambled the shore. I stepped over clumps of goose-poop and hung around for a while… to enjoy the serenity. And when I’d returned home and reached my front door, that magic mist had practically vanished. I heard traffic rumbling and horns in the distance; I was no longer the only person awake. My neighbour waved to me as she hustled into her car and sped away. Fog is expected again tomorrow. I’ll wake up before that ‘crack‘ and — for a while — be the only living soul on the planet.
*… that picture up top is the park I visited, the geese were camera-shy… *