Refuge in the Fog

Fog surrounded the Morris Island National Wildlife Refuge this morning.  I was alone on the beach walking the wrack line.  Others preferred to stay home in front of warming fires. 

 

Slowly the visibility decreased.  Who doesn't sometimes opt to disappear into an obscuring mist faced with the alternative of confronting the raw reality of prejudice, injustice, and poverty outside of our protected lives.   

 

A few scattered Horned Grebes navigated within this refuge without concern for the troubles of the external world. 

In the darkening afternoon even more dense cloud blankets rolled in from the sea. 

 

One lone fisherman eventually was lost from view. 

 



On returning I chose the inland route, intimidated by the somber grey fog. 

 

So cowed by the leaden cold damp mood of the shore which no longer seemed like a refuge, I left the beach behind, glad to retreat even further from the reality of the world to a warming fire at home.   No medals for heroism would be awarded today.   There is always tomorrow.