When I lived on an island, I liked best the foggy days when sea and sky blurred together into dreaming. The world all around me may have become vague, but I found in it so much more "scope for imagination."
Walking in mist is like being in the heart of the wild and gentle god.
Today I was reminded that eloquence does not necessarily mean intelligence. Sometimes the quietest person is the wisest, not needing to declare their knowledge or debate with people who have no intention of changing an opinion anyway. As long as their quietness is honest, and not an attempt at obscurity or mystery, they have so much to offer with it.
A softening of awareness. A gift of listening. A gentle holding of the dreamspace within an active conversation. And a lovely reminder for us to be quiet ourselves and hear what we are saying.
Mist feels the same : quietness in the conversation of the world; the peace that is divine.