This post was written early one morning while taking a pre-breakfast walk around Lago di San Cipriano. My imagination may have got a little too excited, but my sans-coffee state is as good of excuse as any.
Looking out onto the lake, the still water gently lapping the shore and taking with it a tiny bit of silt that lines the banks, I am left with the feeling of anticipated anguish at the impending doom that draws ever closer with each blink of the fearful eye.
If I hadn’t been here before, gazing into the vacant openness that stretches out ahead of my view, I wouldn’t have been able to imagine the sight that was once there. For the morning mist is slowly rolling over the placid and undisturbed surface, consuming everything in its path without prejudice or discrimination.
Although the dense mist brings bitter coldness that penetrates my aching bones, the security it provides by cushioning all it engulfs comforts the heart, almost mystical in its contradictions of implied actions.
The hills on the far side are no more, having already succumbed to the violent peacefulness of the moving blanket of solid grey. With not even a glimmer of light from the sun that once burned the underlying land and provided warmth and unconditional love, it seems as though the concrete foundations of the impermeable wall have taken hold, preventing life and destroying hope.
The mist moves silently closer, its eeriness enough to give even the bravest a shiver. As it rolls up the bank beneath my feet its threats to swallow me are ever present and unrelenting. It isn’t long before what once existed behind me follows the same fate as that in front of me, disappearing without struggle or cry.
As the heart beats faster, the wall closes the senses. It knows what it’s doing, it knows how to get you. Your imagination reminds the body of the dangers of nothing; seeing nothing, hearing nothing and feeling nothing. Adrenaline begins to flow and your mind begins to panic. With a choice seemingly made by something not of your doing, you turn on the spot and squint your eyes, hoping to see the relief of safety. As one foot teeters in front of the other, feeling the ground beneath and reassuring the mind of solid terra firma, the heart continues at a pace only known for a few brief moments in a life.
By the time safety is discovered, away from the terror of the engulfing cloud, the mind calms and body relaxes. Breathing slows and skin warms; the beast of the lake cannot get you under shelter. Up above, beyond the wall and even the world itself the sun is hard at work, doing its best to protect the inhabitants of the planet and rid the area of the dastardly mist. Soon enough the light begins to win, pushing through the windows as the battle continues. The cloud starts to disintegrate, almost crying as they fade into oblivion.
Today’s battle is over, but fearing tomorrow is soon overcome by the sense of anticipation. The chance to succeed again is overwhelming, almost drug-like in its enticement. Live for today, but don’t forget to look forward to tomorrow.