Musings from a Fog-Veiled City

IN my solitude of heart
I feel the sigh of this widowed morning
veiled with mist and rain.

It is 7:30 in the morning and the city is wrapped in thick fog. Everything around in nature stands still in meditative silence except these brave little bird sitting on the cable like some words from a verse carelessly drifted and scattered by the morning breeze.

Trees, mute detached spectators, frozen in time and drenched with the night dew shiver with the slightest breeze. Street dogs curl under the parked cars wrapped in their own warmth.

None of the squirrels have mustered up courage to come up to the balcony and eat their morning treat only a brave crow, with its gleaming feathers dares to venture the chill and descends on the stump that was once mossy green.It doesn’t like the view from the naked stump, hops to the cable between two dripping trees and calls out in a shrill voice piercing the ghostly silence. Another crow responds from somewhere.

Morning fog clings to everything. Soft as a cobweb.

As I watch the spooky scene outside in the park I spot a squirrel hugging the tree trunk speculating if going down to the damp and cold was a good idea.

I decided to go to the terrace. The visibility was almost zero and quickly the fog engulfed me like all the objects around. It wasn’t wise to stand exposed to such chill. I took a last look at the city wrapped in the white wispy impenetrable cover,isolating one thing from the other, blocking the view, a smokey world of mystery.

A mystical, magical feeling seeps into me. Nostalgic, reminiscent of a beautiful memory I warm up with a feeling of love and let my thoughts flow in the Swirling clouds of nothingness. Invisible footsteps follow me down the memory lane.

Back in my room I watch the misty windowpane and draw a smiley on it, a thing I loved to do as a child. Drawing and scribbling on foggy window panes in the home, on steamed up bathroom mirror after a hot shower, and on car windows. Something I still do.

Now as I write this drinking my hot cup of coffee, I can hear the vegetable vendor taking his daily round in the lanes with a cart full of fresh dewy colorful winter veggies. The time has come to leave the comforts of the quilt and head to the kitchen and cook some heartwarming stuff.

3 thoughts on “Musings from a Fog-Veiled City

  1. Pingback: Tweets that mention Musings from a Fog-Veiled City « Spinning a Yarn Of Life --

  2. Great musing, musical, melting meditative words there, embracing the nature’s cover of chilling fog, relating and connecting the same with our daily life. Good nature walk and talk there. Inspired. Only if we have ‘eyes’ to ‘see’ it – life is always wonderful. Yes, nature’s mist is always mystical. Life is a mystery. Acceptance is the way. Thanks.


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