Beaded Beauties

December 8, 2012.  A morning walk in Central Park and the fog is thick in the air, the moisture collecting and dripping on branches and fruit.  It glistens in the wan sunlight, which is struggling to break through the mist.  The birds have left these little grapes to collect the drops of water and shine in the morning light. 

THE MISTS OF NOVEMBER

Monday, November 12, 2012.  There is so much mystery in the mist.  What is coming?  Is it hopeful, dangerous, prowling or wonderful?  I can imagine I am in many places, least of all where I really am.  I can see the distant shapes of something, I can see the far expanse of nothing.  And yet I will walk on into it, expectant and eager as to what lies ahead.