Today, the hilltop is surrounded by a very thick fog. This isn’t actually that unusual here, given the river that runs nearby, but this feels different. According to the BBC, it’s due to intense smog and Saharan sand that’s blowing in from mainland Europe.
So this fog is a mixture of the usual moisture, as well as international debris… I can’t help feeling a little amazed by that, on several levels. Ultimately, it is tangible evidence that our world is very much connected, and our actions impinge on others. Awareness can only be a good outcome from this.
But more immediately, I’m feeling rather unwell as a result. I don’t have asthma, and I know others are no doubt suffering deeply, especially in the cities. For me, it’s more dizziness… literally ‘fogged’ thoughts, almost.
When it’s regular fog from the river, I welcome the blanket that surrounds my home. It’s calm and comforting, encouraging time for rest and contemplation. This is very different – the blanket is gritty and uncomfortable. The land seems aware that something is up; the birds are silent today, there’s no wind to move things… effects are being felt.
Perhaps that’s the direction our ponderings should take today, then. The fog will pass, but its lessons can be learned. Sometimes we can’t just charge ahead regardless of consequences, and our connection to our land (and air) is more present than we might think.