The chilled mist rolling into the valley, obliterating the contours, and then rolling out again was an interesting experience.
And I wonder whether these in-between times we’ve been exploring have other parallels.
Because when we find ourselves in these gaps, we often lose sight of the contours of the landscape.
So perhaps it’s at these times we most need to remember why we are in this liminal space and the shape of what we’ve left behind. While also stirring up again our expectations of what is to come.
Even though I couldn’t see the hills, I knew they were there. And I knew that I would see them in a new light shortly.
The contours of hope in the mist.
~ Yesterday’s post: On experiencing extremes