I was in a fog this morning, literally. I could see the sun shining through the low layer of clouds and I remembered a time when I was flying for a commuter airline. On returning to our home base, a fog bank had rolled over the airport and we were instructed to hold. Our holding pattern took us over the runway, which we could see clearly from our altitude. Finally, the visibility on the ground improved enough for us to make an approach. “Piece of cake,” we said. We went through the landing checklist and proceeded to line up for the approach, but as we neared the ground, we entered the cloud layer and our forward visibility went to zero. We made a missed approach. “What the…?” we both said. “We could see the runway plainly from above.” Eventually a wind picked up and blew the fog away. We landed—just a little late.
Sometimes the super saturated molecules of my thoughts appear like fog to obscure my path. Negative fragments creep in silently and make me lose my way. And when I try to go forward, it’s impossible. But not to worry, the view from above is perfectly clear.