Monday, October 29, 2012
#Pleasures: The Fog Walk
Some people go the adrenaline route in their search for pleasure: sky diving, BMX biking, telling Hell's Angles that they would really look much better in mauve.
Myself, I enjoy simple (and less physically painful) things. One of those things I that really brings me pleasure is the act of walking in the fog.
There's just something about fog that captivates me. When I lived Downtown, if the fog rolled in, I would walk from my house on 7th and Battle St towards and across the Red Bridge, then through the industrial park to the Halston Bridge, across that bridge, then work my way down towards and across the Overlander Bridge, before walking back to my house. If you live in Kamloops, you'll know it's a decent walk.
In the fog, it's a magical walk.
I would usually clip my walk-man to my belt (yes, I am that old) so I could have some music to listen to while walking. The soft click of the cassette tape switch sides back and forth was the only way of telling time in the fog, as without that reminder that time was passing, a second would stretch out into an eternity... and sometimes, an eternity would be over in a second. With the MP3 player I have now, time will have absolutely no sway over me the next time I enter the soft embrace of the fog banks.
The glow from the street lights would just be that- a dim glow of some orb floating in the distance... something not quite real. The world would cease to be a concrete thing outside the reach of my arms. Sometimes, I would wonder if I was even real. I would no longer be Mike S- man plagued with doubts, and fears, and frustrated dreams. No, I would be just like the fog and the reality that it created. I would be just pure thought, shedding the negativity like dew on a leaf. I would leave pieces of my thought-self behind in that unreality. Entering my "fog walk" meant losing myself for a bit, letting loose the bindings of my thoughts, and letting their vaporous forms drift off and away, before I once again found myself again...
There is something quite therpeutic and soothing about my "fog walks". When I enter the fog bank, I'm burdened and weighed down, but when I emerge, my back is straighter, and I feel as if my load isn't so heavy. Even though I would go on these walks by myself- I never felt alone or afraid. Rather, I felt as if the Universe was welcoming me into those mysterious mists like an honoured friend, weaving time and reality around me like the soft blanket I take comfort under when I'm not feeling well. The parallel is certainly there. My blanket wraps around me and comforts me when I'm sick in body, while the fog curls and envelopes me, while brining comfort when I'm sick in heart and soul.
Oh... To get lost in that magical world again soon...