We have a special relationship with fog in our family.
When our boys were toddlers, the thick mist scared them. I explained that fog was like clouds, only closer to the ground. We joked that the clouds were tired. They needed to sit down and rest a bit.
When he was a little older, Alex said he thought foggy days looked like God had erased part of the world. We spent hours dreaming of how we’d help to fill it in…who and what would live there?
And of course, Larry’s favorite musical is Brigadoon, so fog always prompts a bit of song and dance. (And bad accents. But that’s another story.)
I thought about this as I took my walk today. The beauty of the fog on the mountain in and of itself would have been the foundation, the “gem” for my homework; but I actually started thinking about Brigadoon, and how it only appears from the mist every 100 years.
It made me realize that while there are amazing gemstones to be found every day, there are also treasures that only happen every once in awhile – perhaps only once in a lifetime! And if we’re not paying attention, they can easily be missed.
What a tragedy that would be.
And then I thought back to our boys, and how a child’s way of looking at the world is so magical. They don’t miss a thing. Paying attention and learning about the universe and life is their job. Their mission.
Thinking like a child is obviously part of my job. But even children’s writers need a reminder now and then.
Today, simply appreciating the fog wasn’t enough. Today, I needed to look at it from a child’s perspective. Literally. I walked down the hill to the playground, and up the steps of the slide.
There it was. The landscape.
Like a lovely writing prompt.
I stood there, letting the splendor wash over me.
And dreamed of how I should help fill it in.
Now, I must write.