image Fog

This is the view from my window this morning.  Because it is so dark, the flash came on, but what you are seeing is a faint outline of the balcony railing. The tiny dot to the left is a reflection of the kitchen microwave.  I can normally see the downtown skyline as well as Lake Ontario both to the east and the west but this eerie silence is a marked contrast and dredges up the poem learned in childhood:

The fog comes on little cat feet.

It sits looking

over harbor and city

on silent haunches

and then moves on.

Carl Sandburg

Silence and nothingness for me. A difficult morning commute and probably a few car crashes for others on their way to work.

Fog – like all weathers – reminds us we are not in charge.  We may be able to forecast that fog is coming but it doesn’t make it go away.  There is fogginess in what we think we know too. I used to teach a model developed by neuroscientist Paul MacLean known as the triune brain.



It suggests that the brain developed in stages with the highest level as reasoning.  Business clients liked the model very much because they think they are being rational even when they aren’t – and the model is still popular because of its simplicity.  But it is largely discredited by serious scientists as an evolutionary theory of how the brain  evolved.

We are not in charge of our ideas either.  There is more personal fog than we are prepared to admit.  When this fog lifts, I’ll have to look again at what is around with new reflective eyes.

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