Fog on Groundhog Day. Need a ruling from Bill Murray.
MADISON, GA — Groundhog Day investigative report.
It was 9 a.m. and Tebow needed walking.
I could have been in church this morning with the rest of my family. Things didn’t work out that way for me today.
Not gonna overshare what’s between me and the Lord and besides that’s taking away from the significance of February 2.
The day that foreshadows how long the evil Queen of Winter will throttle my weathered skin and chap my lips. Among other things.
So I girded my loins and headed out with my camera to record shadows.
Or the lack there of.
Fog.
People, there was fog.
.
And lots of it.
This dense mist was probably lying around as the day dawned. Central Georgia isn’t like San Francisco where a game could start with blue sky and then have Candlestick shrouded in a gray cloak by the bottom of the third. (Or as it used to be.)
Fog here starts after sunset. Slowly leaching in. Filling up nooks and crannies that you choose not to think about. Like the chipped spots in the shutter that needs repainting or the underside of the weeds that have infiltrated your collards.
So it’s safe to say when the groundhog popped out of his hole around here,
No shadow.
No shadows,
For my coffee cup.
For my Tebow.
For the fire hydrant.
For the dear birds flitting here and there. Nary a speck of shadow.
The damp coolness lay on my hands and on the leash and on the this rusting tin roof.
A roof that might have seen its last Groundhog’s Day dawn.
In literature — the wonderful symbolic kind that not enough of us write and read anymore — sun and light mean just that. Goodness and fullness and happily ever after.
Well, until an owl shows up.
Just letting you know if an owl shows up in a book you’re reading — death is lurking somewhere.
Shadows on the other hand can project evil. The negative side of our souls.
But fog? What in the heck do we do with that?
Light enough to see. The sun filtered through clouds. Light so blocked that negative reflections cling to the body, unable to spill onto the ground for all to see.
With fog, the definition between the heavens and the earth is lost.
Gray and blurred lines.
Hmmp.
So for me, it’s a toss up.
I’m hoping for a shorter winter, but I guess only the groundhog knows for sure.
What about you? Did you see a shadow this morning?
I just read last night that the groundhog has only accurately predicted the weather 32% of the time, meaning a coin toss would be more accurate. 😉
Love the pictures! Can I come visit?
Please come visit Natalie. We could stroll in our very modest pajama bottoms, sipping our coffee. Anytime.
This is such a beautiful setting and the words accompanying them are even more so. I’m coming with Natalie. Sleepover!!! I like the analogy of fog being like blurred lines. It feels that way to me.
I have to start writing again. Reading this post makes me miss what words can do.
Oh Gina, so great to hear from you. And please come on. We’ve got to be warmer than Chicago. I’ll head your way in July.
I actually like fog…it creates a sort of mystical, magic atmosphere. Some of those photos are great too!
Also, don’t hate the owls – they are simple mail-bearers in Harry Potter.
I knew there was a reason I should have read at least one of those Harry Potter books. That knowledge is comforting. I do love hearing them at night. Hate always thinking . . . is someone going to die?
I love the fog, too, it’s in my california sf bay area blood! Loved that old building in your photo, too, probably has a few more gh days left in her tired bones… ;^)
I’ve been inside all day, goofing off on the Internet, so I can give no ruling.
I loved the muted colors in your shots, especially the old cabin.
i’d say, any way you look at it, spring is coming to georgia faster than it’s coming to new york. fog is so mysterious. great pics.
Glorious pictures! And now I have to know: what happens if an owl shows up in a blog you are reading?
Well. I guess it would depend on the tenor of the post. If it was one of mine, it most probably would be nothing more than a cool bird in an tree.
I think so. Today we were hovering around 60. Then they say we might have snow by the weekend. Oy vey.
Beautiful photos!
I can never remember which way the groundhog thing goes. I just pray for shorter winter regardless!
Yep, if there was a groundhog he saw his shadow in Khartoum. But then, winter left a while ago. 🙂
What a beautiful post and photos. I wish I knew why you didn’t go to church. I know why I don’t. It has been a while.
Now shadows? I don’t have a clue if I saw a shadow yesterday. It was cold and my hair was freshly washed, so I tucked it under a hat to walk the dogs. The only thing I could think of was getting back inside fast.
Fog? You have written about fog so eloquently. Fog is like that. It has a slightly mysterious nature.
I do enjoy my church Robin. Sometimes it’s just difficult to get there and sometimes its difficult to go. Make sense?
I don’t mind the fog so long as it’s warm. Lately it’s just been cold, cold, cold over here. I need some warmth!
Although I’m very ready for spring, I’m not ready for summer, so I guess the groundhog seeing his shadow means that time’s moving too quickly either way?
As to taking photos in the fog – you got some truly amazing images. I love the lighting and the crispness/blurriness of them. Crisp and blurry don’t really go together in most sentences, but I hope you know what I mean. Beautiful!
The words were great but the pictures were awesome.
Deal!!! I’m so over this winter! More snow tomorrow.
Fog is one of my most favorite weather conditions — and your photos capture it perfectly! (I always wondered if we all go by the same groundhog, Phil, or each of us sees if we see our own shadow… because we didn’t see ours but Phil saw his! As you say, a toss up!)