I must go in, the fog is rising.
Emily Dickinson
Emily’s Final Dream
Hush now, the fog has come-
a spirit has laid his body down
settling over the village:
Slowly, quietly, she leaves the warmth
of her little house
and crosses the dewy lawn.
Passing by, she notices
how a dandelion, long gone to seed
now sparkles with diamonds.
She steps softly over the grass
onto the wooded trail beyond.
The fog spirit,
with its cool, liquid, murkiness
directs her gaze,
obscuring what doesn’t matter,
revealing only what is needful.
Step by step it leads her through the woods.
Silhouettes of trees appear in slow succession,
a line of soldiers passing-
looming large, then fading from sight
on either side of her path.
The soft thrumming of a woodpecker
draws her eyes upward,
where the last few oak leaves
begin their tumbling, twirling spiral
down to the forest floor.
She watches until they land.
She is being led to the river,
to a small clearing
where a narrow dock reaches out -
a beckoning arm.
She walks along to its end
where the muted light of the sun
Is barely visible through the heavy mist -
It’s more like a full moon than a star,
with reflected light glimmering softly on the surface of the water.
To her left, stands a tall dead branch
curving upward in the milky light -
reaching toward the unreachable.
The sight fills her with a deep longing
to understand this final mystery,
this tugging on her heart toward something beyond.
Where is the gentle spirit leading her?
In the way of dreams, she suddenly comprehends
the wisdom of resting in the unknown.
Everything she needs to know is here now.
She takes a final step forward.
The fog has come.
She must go in.
The opening quote by Emily Dickinson is reported to be her final words her death.
A foggy morning this week made me change all my morning plans and go for a walk at the River Bluff Park in Saugatuck.
I paint the fog - I think of its fresh moistness - its stillness - its mystery.
Douglas Lockwood
I am so grateful that I have the freedom to make choices like this one. I love the fog, and whenever I have a chance to be in it - I try to seize the moment.
I decided to write this week instead of next, since next week is the Thanksgiving Holiday in the U.S. and we will be busy cooking and visiting with friends, neighbors and family. I hope all of you who celebrate have a wonderful Thanksgiving Holiday.
Thank you so much for being here. See you in two weeks!
The fog seems to bring emphasis to every silhouette; give meaning to every dark shadow.
