Morning Fog...

(Picture: Lisa Erin Brown)

Last night I was able to pass the time while traversing the dream filled corridors of sleep.  It took days of sleeplessness to reach that point, insomnia still holding me in its' grasp, but my internal systems took over enough to allow me to slip into a deep state of repose.  When I stretched across the mattress last night, my body felt both weightless and heavy.  A state of the unconscious descended rapidly, and the subconscious films of the dream scape began to play.  As I sit here, I have no clear recollection of what I saw in my dreams, but they were vivid and many.  I can with great certainty say that my subconscious mind, the one that lurks below the haze of the alpha state, was doing its best to make up for lost time.  Over the months, my visits in that sector of my unconscious have been few and far between to say the least. I have quite a bit of catching up to do. The scores on that 'To Do' list are many.  I think quite a bit of lost ground was made up...I just wish I could recall at least a sampling of what went on in there.  Maybe later today, as sometimes happens with my remembering dreams.  Knocking wood...

This morning I awoke feeling somewhat refreshed.  I have quite a bit to do around the hovel today, so I am hoping the feeling lasts.  There is cooking to do: quiche, cookies, white beans with ham.  There is sewing to do: curtains for the glass kitchen doors, cushion covers for the two remaining kitchen chairs. Then there is the usual list of chores: vacuuming, scrubbing, dusting.  To assume that this restful feeling the night's sleep has created will last long enough to scratch all of that from my list would be wishful thinking.  I will be happy in just making a healthy dent.  Knocking wood...

(Picture: Lisa Erin Brown)

I awoke to a muted light level in the room.  Not the usual glare of the bright sun that always causes me to squint my eyes to half mast against it's harshness.  The time was in the neighborhood of 8:00 AM, so I knew the sun should be well into its bright ray barrage by now.  There was obviously a difference to this morning.  One I was thrilled to discover.  I looked out the window to see the trees, bushes, cars, everything shrouded in thick fog.  Without a moments hesitation, I threw on my jeans, tennis shoes, jacket, clipped my hair up in the back, grabbed the camera, and entered the crisp morning air.  The day was opening with a mood filled photo op.  One I was definitely not going to pass up.

(Picture: Lisa Erin Brown)

It was very quiet.  The only sounds I noticed when I first exited the condo were the drips of water drops falling on the Autumnal flotsam scattered under trees. There wasn't even a sprinkling of rain, so I assume that it was the collected moisture on leaves and branches from the thick fog that was dripping down. The fog WAS very thick.  Looking at the far side of the condo development, the tree tops I normally see beyond the far buildings were not there.  Only a curtain of thick mist.  I was met with that each way I looked.  I live on an island, and in that moment it felt like the island had diminished in size, only covering the confines of the development.  A small inhabited island...hanging in the mists in a space between worlds maybe.  An island hanging in a sort of limbo. My creative mind was feeling quite at home in this mist.  Time to head over to one of my regular photo spots down by the cul de sac and the dock remains.  I have captured many of the varied moods of Gaia here on the marsh in that one specific location.  I have caught this foggy side once before, and was eager to see what I would see this time.

(Picture: Lisa Erin Brown)

More fog...as if that was a shocker.  The last foggy morning I witnessed was fairly thick, but I had been able to make out the ghostly outline of the dock by the Bull River Bridge, and the bridge itself.  This time I couldn't see anything...just mist.  It was as if the dock, bridge, and Tybee Island had all ceased to exist.  The only hint of their existence was the muffled and distant sound of cars, each fading in and out as it crossed the bridge.  It sounded like a series of exhalations, punctuated intermittently by the dull thud of distant tires passing over spaces in the bridges surface.

(Picture: Lisa Erin Brown)

As I walked over to the marshes edge, I was able to see the disintegrating dock remains a little more clearly.  At the top of one of the standing weathered poles was a large heron, it's wings folded into a cocoon around itself.  I got a few pictures before it became aware of me.  Stretching it's huge grey wings out to either side, it launched off of the pole with a loud shriek.  Pumping it's wings in the misty air, it punctured the veil of fog and disappeared.  

(Picture: Lisa Erin Brown)

The quiet and the feeling of solitude had almost mystical qualities.  So peaceful and calming, yet exhilarating at the same time.  The silence was deafening...it's in moments like that when one gets the true meaning of that statement.   Over the few years I have been living here on this Savannah marsh, I have witnessed many environmental moods.  This is one of my favorites.

(Picture: Lisa Erin Brown)

Weatherscan Channel says to expect more of the same over the next few days leading into the weekend.  That's just peachy with me.

Knocking wood...