I looked from the rooftop terrace a couple days ago.
Aquamarine waters
Blue skies
White puffs of clouds.
The port with many fishing boats docked.
The quay where the cruise ships put in.
The spit of land across the small bay.
The wide stretch of brown sandy beach
Umbrellas patterning it
People, mere dots, enjoying it.
I breathed out a long sigh.
Beauty calms me.
I looked from the rooftop terrace yesterday.
Misty grey covered all.
The waters grey and still.
Fishing boats blobs of darker grey.
The spit of land across the way
Appearing like a low grey cloud
Then vanishing again.
The beach invisible
No umbrellas today
No people visible.
Even the large cruise ship has vanished into the fog.
Yet the ship is still there
So, too, the fishing boats.
The spit of land sits solidly in its place.
Unmoving.
Certainly not floating.
The beach, also … still there.
The two views … so different
Yet exactly the same.
Perception and visibility are what changed
Nothing else.
How much do I miss when seeing through the fog?
What assumptions have I based on a foggy day?
And then lived from?
What beliefs do I see as ephemeral clouds
When they are actually solid land?
Or vice versa?
What mindsets are embedded in the insubstantial
Rather than clear sunlight?
I would see clearly.
Know the solidity of things that don’t change or move
Regardless of my ability to perceive them.
