Friday Fog

The thick fog that covers the land makes it quite difficult for me to get to work on time. Traffic on the highway slows this morning to about 40 mph. It is just past the point of the morning when the day begins, but clouds make it difficult for the sunlight to stream through so many layers of the dust and moisture. On the highway, it is difficult to see how many vehicles are preceding mine, but from time to time a get a glimpse of a very long line of taillights, and then the light quickly fades. We move together, in and out of the clouds that are hanging, clinging, permeating the blacktop and surrounding landscape. Our caravan, in our brief moment out of the cloud, view a vision of trees that are off to either side of the roadway. The trees are thickly frosted, and have a promise of a radiance of their own if only the light would send a stream of energy their way. They seem to be wanting the fog to lift as much as I do. We drive into the next fog bank.  I can barely see the small truck that is directly in front of me. The outline of the tailgate brightens and dims over and over as the traffic changes the pace of travel throughout the drive. I look at the clock on my dashboard thinking that the trip is taking longer than the extra five minutes I had allowed. I reset my iPod so I am listening to some upbeat music as the twenty minute podcast has ended and left the air hanging quietly. It is too silent until the selection is made. The familiar rhythm of an old favorite brings a smile to my face and soon our entourage melds into the traffic of town as we join local traffic. The fog thins, but is still a frame of all that I can see. I pull into my parking spot, and the fog tries to follow me into the building. I push it farther behind me as I walk into the glow of florescent lighting and smiles of favorite people. The fog evaporates and is left outside to battle the sun for dominance of the day.