misty blue

The early morning of April 11th was one of those days where the fog is abnormally thick, espcially for April. If you look down Paseo, you can't even see the closest stop light. The trees, which nicely line the street in a row, as if they are soliders standing up to battle, fade off into the distance, and get consumed by the mist, until suddenly, you're so amazingly close, they pop out at you from the foggy confusion.

This could be a metaphore, I suppose, if you want to bring psychology into the mess. If you were a psychology major, you would probably be trying to read all sorts of analogies into the picture. Perhaps you would say the fog, and the trees, are really how I feel about life right now. It's really me, trying to describe on a subconscious level, what I feel about my life. And! Just when I think you've finished, you'll tell me, if I peer into the mist a little longer, I will see that I am actually at a meeting. A collective consciousness, if you will.

Oh, wait. Sorry. As Frank would say, I got my lines of bullshit crossed.

Today's mist, and today's fog, did not begin as a metaphore, but nonetheless, as I stepped out of my office into the misty blue abyss, I noticed that Santa Fe's spring has brought with it a transition of sorts. A time for change, growth and soul searching.