“The fog does not hide the truth, it prepares us to see it.”

This week lingered like a held breath. Fog rolled across the cove, concealing yet never erasing, pressing the truth into stillness until the time to reveal arrives. Shadows lengthened, the dock held its silence, and October demands reflection more than rest.

Movements stir, and the quiet was not empty, it was charged, filled with what works unseen. Like branches bending before the crack, or thunder rumbling before it’s heard, silence carries weight.

October always has. It asks not for celebration but for depth, for remembering, for listening, for preparing. The fog cannot hold forever. Sooner than expected, it will part. And when it does, everything waiting behind it will step into view.

-Kerri-Elizabeth-
Next week, the storm is getting closer to arrival and silence will no longer be enough.

 “Truth hides in plain sight, waiting for the courage of someone willing to see.”

Fog draped itself over the cove as if the lake had pulled a veil across its face. The silence was steady, but within it was a stirring, as though something was speaking, but unseen, it was a feeling heard within every cell, not something passive, it was bold . The air carried a weight, not of a storm yet, but of a storm preparing to unravel what was.

Someone or something lingered at the far edge of the dock, still, blurred, neither coming forward nor retreating. It was not the figure itself that unsettled the morning, but the waiting, the sense that what was hidden in the fog was already shaping the next turn.

October carries a different weight each year. A month of more quiet that is never still, a month where memory presses close and reflection reaches deeper than other seasons can even dare. What stirred unseen was not gone, it never was. It was only waiting for the veil to lift.

-Kerri-Elizabeth-
Tomorrow, the fog will shift, and with it, the shape of what has always been there will be seen.