the fog rolled over the hills last tuesday morning. it fell into the troughs and climbed up the peaks with perfect grace and that steadiness and elegance that nature seems to show off. it made turning around sweet – forgetting something and needing to go home for it – the smallest thing making my forgetfulness worth it.
fate is undeniable. the older i get, the more i feel it. in the same strangers i see weeks in a row; meant-to-be; running from rain just in time; the perfect song on the radio.
those moments that still the soul.
there’s nowhere else i’m meant to be. no feeling i should be feeling instead. no life being left behind. i’m walking the path, carving it and choosing it and feeling my way through.
rolling fog and cloudy horizons. the journey is leading to that one moment where my life will make the most sense it’s ever made. i feel it happening. it’s anticipation trapped in a jar.
i woke up from that dream last night. it’s becoming more real than ever.