Day 86: Fog on the Mountain

The last two days have seen mist and fog descend on the mountain. Once again visibility is down to 30 feet. However, our spirits are not yet dampened, even if our clothes are. Early morning sees me donning rain boots, clipping an umbrella onto my bag, and snuggling into my cloak as I prepare for the day. Squelching through the grass and splashing through puddles is quite common as the student body hurries off to class.

The weather has refrained from all out rain, preferring to keep misting gently and covering everything with dewy droplets of moisture. My professors have donned their rain slickers and hats, looking even more intimidating as they appear suddenly from the gloom only to disappear again without a word.

My walk on Day 86 was ethereal, surrounded by clouds as I trudged along muddied mountain trails. There is something about fog that is both magical and confining, giving you your own little world but holding you captive from the rest of the world. I know that somewhere below my campus lies civilization, a city sprawling across a valley, but I cannot see it, I am not daily reminded of its presence. So for a little while I can entertain the thought of being in the Shire on foggy days, of padding home to a good fire, a strong cup of tea, and a hearty meal. For a little while, I can pretend I’m a real hobbit in my cloak as I twirl around in the mist alone.

Many people here do not like the fog; it obscures the sun and gives an air of gloom. I have become quite fond of it for it gives my imagination many things to play with and it fills me with wonder. In the early morning sometimes I get up early enough to watch the fog roll up the mountains to the west before finally descending on the college. I can watch the fog swallow up familiar mountain ranges before it gently blankets me in my world.  Living in the clouds has become something I look forward to.

The Road Goes Ever On and On
~Daisy Buttons