Some of my Oregonian friends have been trying to help me learn how to speak like I’m from Oregon instead of from other parts. For example, apparently it is a Californian habit I acquired some years ago to call an interstate “the 205” or “the 5”, and an Oregonian should call it “Interstate 205.” However, one of the more unusual expressions that I have learned is the expression “settling in” referring to the fog that settles in. It has been a difficult matter to know how much fog is necessary for it to be settled in. That said, I’m pretty familiar with fog from my youth, as I grew up in an area where pea-soup fog was pretty heavy and pretty consistent in the mornings while I would wait for my school bus to pick me up.
Sometimes, when the fog is not too heavy, I have seen beautiful sights when the fog is hanging lightly on the hills of West Linn over I-205. In fact, it is a pretty enough for a painting, but among my talents drawing works of beauty is not one of them. The sight of fog on the lower end of beautiful tree-lined green hills is an amazing sight, though, and one I am glad to see just about every morning on my way to work. When fog is in small quantitites it is a beautiful thing, especially when it is not in anyone’s way. When fog is in someone’s way, though, it makes vision quite limited.
Even though fog is among the most insubstantial things things around, it can feel so heavy that one cannot see past it. It is only in the light of the day that the fog melts away into nothingness. This is true both physically and metaphorically. It is interesting how one can learn such varying lessons from even such matters as fog, something which seldom seems to stay on either the mind or the memory because our focus is on other issues. In order to get rid of the fog that we face in life, we have to shine a light so that the confusion is removed by the clarity of light and truth. That clarity does not always come easily.
However, while a lot of fog is troublesome, a little bit of fog is a beautiful thing both literally and metaphorically. Life is full of mystery and a little bit of surprise and novelty and adventure keeps the boredom away and keeps away the problems that result when life gets in a rut without any kind of change. Too much change can be an unpleasant and unnerving thing, as people need a certain sense of stability, but all the same there needs to be growth as well as stability, a balance between the familiar and the safe as well as the new and exciting. We want a little bit of fog on the hills to add beauty and mystique to life, but not too much that it settles in and prevents us from finding our way. Maintaining that balance is a tricky one.
Edge Induced Cohesion 
Your blog reminded me of a very short poem I memorized in high school (the author escapes my mind at present): “The fog comes on little cats’ feet; it sits over harbor and city on silent haunches, and then moves on.” (I might have messed up a couple of words–it’s been a l-o-n-g time since high school.)
King David likened God’s word to “a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path” (Psalm 119:105). My guess is that he, like we all, wanted to see through the mental fog that could so often obscure his vision. As you said, when the fog is distant–at arm’s length–the objective perspective of its haunting beauty can be made, but being in its heavy midst causes a subjective reaction to it–which becomes troublesome. Short-term navigation–feeling one’s own way through the fog–easily replaces long-term vision, for the destination becomes intangible.
Your blogs never cease to evoke deep and thoughtful reflection. Thank you, again, for your excellent messages. 🙂
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I’m glad you appreciate the deep and thoughtful reflection of the posts. The fact that I was simultaneously struggling with mental fog and dealing with physical fog prompted a connection between the two.
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