Fog's Blessing

Silver-gray fog sashayed inland --floating, wafting –An ethereal mermaid garbed in gossamer scales.And the sunlit sea disappeared,Enveloped in a shroud of coastal clouds.As I stand on harbor rocks,She draws her curtain of translucent silk around me,Foreshortening my sight.But then she magnifies my other senses:Lanyards clank on mastsWaves slap against pilingsSeagulls screech and cawThe foghorn blares a warning – tuba-likeMoisture frizzes my hairMiniscule beads wet my skinMy cap smells like damp sheepLow tide smells of kelp and fish.Now the fog has wooed me.I can experience small beauty, close and intimate:Dew shimmers on a freshly-bloomed daisyPushing up from between the rocks,Droplets of silvercrowning the love-me-love-me-not petals;A spider web glistens in subdued light,Suspended symmetricallyAcross the antler-like branches of moist driftwood.I had wanted to see the blue ocean, white-capped,Expansive, rolling on and on for miles and miles.But God has blessed me with the fog instead.She wraps me in a cocoon of moist gauze;Making my moment a palate of sensation.She lures my vision to see small things,The beauty right there on my path,One foot in front of me.Simple beauty in small thingsI can see them nowI can hear them nowAnd feel them now.All because of the fog.She has blessed me.