“Transformation is not an event, it is the whisper between what was and what will be.”
Somewhere beneath the stillness,
a new rhythm begins to hum.
It’s quiet, but it’s certain
the sound of what you’ll become.
Do not rush the unveiling,
or try to name its start,
the mystery is sacred
it’s written in your heart.
-Kerri-Elizabeth-
Tomorrow, a celebration begins, a doorway of gratitude and light for the next generation to walk through.
“Silence does not mean nothing is happening, quite the opposite.”
October opened with a heaviness, not loud, not rushed, but dense as fog pressed against the cove. The silence was misleading. It seemed still, but beneath it, movement gathered, papers shuffled behind closed doors, decisions were being made in rooms unseen.
Life on the surface looked the same, driveways quiet, doors closed, familiar cars passing by with eyes fixed forward. Not confrontation, not kindness, just avoidance. In some ways, it was easier that way, silence was less piercing. But silence has its own edge, and it reminds you to listen deeper.
Waiting can feel endless. But October has its way of reminding all senses, nothing is truly still. Branches bend, shadows lengthen, and tides always shift. The question is not if movement comes, movement is part of stillness, it is in the beat of every heart while stillness is working. It is the pulse of life all around while stillness is practiced, stillness does not work alone, it works with the gratitude that both can be felt at the same time.
-Kerri-Elizabeth-
Tomorrow, the silence will feel different, the air is changing and the stillness is surrounded by movement. Do you notice the movement around you when you are still or in stillness do you tune out movement around you?
“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.
“The light of memory burns steady, even when the fog refuses to part.”
October bends the branches
yet truth does not let go,
the fog folds into silence,
where only shadows know.
Time does not move slower,
though memory begs it stay,
eight years slip like water,
yet love always finds its way.
The lake holds back its secrets,
the moon records each tear,
a storm stirs out of silence,
its thunder drawing near.
Still hope becomes a lantern,
still strength is gathered whole,
October writes its chapters
on the canvas of the soul.
-Kerri-Elizabeth-
Tomorrow, the lanterns will stand against the fog, and the week will close with the what comes next.
How do you navigate within the inner fog?
Do you know without a doubt it lifts and the waiting is never empty, it is where the healing is being done?
“October does not whisper, it insists on being heard.”
October presses in heavy, as if the month itself carries a deeper silence and stillness than others. It was not the silence of rest, but of gathering, like a sky swelling with thunder too far to hear but close enough to sense.
Leaves spiraled down in surrender, yet the air felt charged. What was unseen carried more weight than what was in front of the eyes. It was the knowing that work was being done behind the veil, that pieces were moving, even when the surface remained calm.
The cove reflected it undeniably. Smooth, glass-like water with a current beneath, invisible yet undeniable. It was not the question of if the silence would break, but when. The stillness is never truly still and the silence is never truly silent, but instead an explanation with a heartbeat.
-Kerri-Elizabeth-
Tomorrow, the weight of October will shift into sound , the waiting has shifted to movement and the silence has erupted with strength only October can serve in this way.
Category: suspense story
Tags: suspense, October, lake, fog, silence, reflections, transformation, mystery, solitude
“Shadows in fog are not illusions, they are invitations to wonder.”
The mist conceals the edges,
yet shadows learn to stay,
not fading but awaiting,
the lift in the break of day.
The cove holds secrets steady,
the dock does not retreat,
what waits is not imagined,
but truth with covered feet.
-Kerri-Elizabeth-
By tomorrow, the shadows will lean closer, daring the stillness to break. Is it the stillness within or the stillness that is not our own, awaiting the inevitable rumble, where will you be when the rumble is heard and are you easily moved?
“Sometimes it is not the shadow we fear, but the moment it decides to move.”
The dock stretched into gray water, a line of wood swallowed by mist and fog. It felt less like a path than a question, would something emerge, or would it remain hidden until the right moment?
Somewhere beyond sight, wings beat heavy. The geese were gathering, restless in their flight, shifting places for a season about to turn colder. Their calls carried across the fog, a reminder that even what feels still is moving, preparing, deciding.
The dock did not answer with a tone, not even its normal creek, but a stillness that shifted when something was near. It was only held and suspended between what had been revealed and what had not yet arrived. In its silence, it was both refuge and warning.
-Kerri-Elizabeth-
Tomorrow, the dock will no longer stand still, something will claim its space. Is this a shift in emotion, a shift in a season, or a shift in something bigger, that will change the perception of what is in the fog?
“The fog does not hide the truth, it prepares us to see it.”
A veil across the water,
a breath between the ripples,
the cove keeps what is stirring,
while silence slowly hides.
Not in absence, but a waiting,
not gone but not yet near,
the fog breathes out its secret,
then pulls it back with intention.
-Kerri-Elizabeth-
By tomorrow, the breath of the fog will not be enough, movement will rise.
“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.
“Fall teaches us that letting go is not the fall, but the space for something unseen to begin.”
This week unfolded like a painting of new tones, branches cracking, geese lifting into the fog, chickadees daring to trust the hand awaiting with wonder. Silence, though not empty, was alive, a shifting presence carrying both warning and wonder.
The cove reminded us that even in stillness, transformation is never far. Leaves fall, trees splinter, shadows stretch, but in the letting go, something is always preparing to begin again.
-Kerri-Elizabeth-
Next week, the fog will arrive, and with it, shapes that will not stay hidden. What will you see in the fog?
SONSHINE FOR YOU 