When the Fog Begins to Lift


 

“Revelation is not sudden, it is the slow kindness of light finding its way through.”

Morning came quiet but different. The fog that had held the cove in its arms began to thin, revealing outlines that had long been hidden. Nothing startling, just a soft unveiling, like the world remembering its own shape.

In that return of clarity was a gentle reminder: truth doesn’t rush. It waits for readiness. The same stillness that once felt heavy now shimmered with invitation. Leaves glistened with dew, each one a mirror of change already underway.

There was peace in not needing every answer yet. The unveiling itself was enough.

-Kerri-Elizabeth-
Tomorrow, the fog will rise , and what stands in full view may ask to be seen differently.

October Cleansing


 

“Cleansing is not letting go of love, it is making room for it to move more freely.”

This week was not loud, or easy. It was a week of walking gently through silence, noticing what lingers and what begins to stir. The reflected stillness, yet stillness itself was full of memory, of love, of truths preparing to step into the light.

October asks for cleansing. It asks for a slowing down, to feel what has been carried, to honor transitions, ours and others, without any added definition or judgements. It invites strength through softness, courage through listening, and healing through awareness.

Even in silence, there is motion. Even in waiting, there is growth, even in absence, love is the presence that carries it all.

-Kerri-Elizabeth-
Next week, October’s stillness will meet October’s unveiling, and the light will not be held back.

Leaves That Cover Truth


 “What lies beneath is part of the journey, it teaches us how we trust the unseen.”

Leaves fall across the pathway,
a softness to the cover,
they whisper with each footstep,
you’ve carried this so long.

The cover is not hiding wonder,
its revealing more is there, right under.
What is there is soon uncovered,
as the winds reminisce with the seasons of thunder.

-Kerri-Elizabeth-
Tomorrow, the week will close, and October’s cover will turn into October’s unveiling.

The Covered Path


 “What is hidden is not gone, it waits to be revealed in time.”

The path along the cove disappeared beneath fallen leaves. Yet anyone who had walked it before knew it was still there. Hidden, yes. Erased, no.

October does this, it covers what is known, so that discovery can happen again. It invites patience, a slowing down, an awareness that not everything is meant to be seen all at once.

Walking the covered path became an act of trust. Each step pressed into leaves that whispered: truth cannot stay buried forever. It will rise when the season is right.

-Kerri-Elizabeth-
Tomorrow, the path will clear a little more, what will you see differently?

The Weight of Waiting


 

“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?

When Fog Lifts


“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 Rays Behind the Fog


“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?

The Weight of October


 

“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 the Mist


 

“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?

The Dock That Waits


 

“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?