My Own Little "Brigadoon"

   Fog is one of those weird things that can make you lose your way or help you find yourself.  Yeah, that sounds odd but it is true if you ponder things as much as I do.  Today was foggy.  There is nothing unusual about that as it is our standard winter weather.   We have fog, rain, cold and back to fog.  Nothing has changed with that for centuries.  It is just a lovely part of living in the Deep South.  But about losing or finding things may need explaining.

  It is easy to understand how you can become disoriented when out wandering on a foggy morn.  Landmarks can become distorted and, if you are not careful, you can wind up going the wrong way real fast.  When I was a kid, Pop and I would often go fishing before the sun would rise.  Occasionally, a thick fog would cover the Bay.  He would tell me to "watch the shoreline" so we would be sure not to venture into the channels.  It was easy to think you were seeing the shore but, at times, it was merely shadows.  It was a strange feeling to not have any idea where you were.  Landmarks were not to be seen and we would be lost.  Pop and I always made the best of it by dropping anchor and fishing until the sun burned off the fog but, had we kept going, we could have ventured into the channels and been overrun by the large tugboats.  It was a case of "better to be safe, than sorry".

  As for finding yourself, sitting on the pier while being totally cut off from the hubbub of the world, gives you time to think.  Fog has a way of, not only blanking out sights, but muting sounds, as well.  During dense fogs, it is easy to imagine that you are the sole person in the area.  When that happens it is easy to start putting your life in some sort of better perspective.  Your mental state can greatly improve by the solitude even if that solitude is caused by things around you being shrouded from view.

  My mind has a tendency to wander in all sorts of directions.  Today was no different even though the fog was different.  Instead of being a pea-soup thick fog over the whole area, it was concentrated more on the other side of the Bay.  Only a sheer layer laid in over the Bayou.  The densest portion stayed over the air force base on the opposite side of the Bay.  Once again, I had that feeling that "Brigadoon" was going to appear any moment. (Brigadoon being the mythical city in the Scottish Highlands in the musical by the same name.)  Thinking of the idyllic town made me wistful of better, happier times.  It also made me appreciate my little place that much more.  To me, it is every bit as utopian as Brigadoon seemed in the musical.  I think I shall stay put.  Life is good.