Writing Challenge- January 22
Prompt: Smoke, Fog, haze- write about not being able to see in front of you
This winter has been more harsh and less predictable than most. The snow has not been so frequent or heavy in years; this is good and necessary as in this desert 80% of the water source comes from snow-pack in the mountains. The clean, thick snow blindingly reflects the sun in the day, and shines in the moonlight at night. It is life-saving for the parched land, but there is a darker side to all the white snow- the fog from the lake.
As the cold, frozen air passes over the warmer body of water a thick, rolling, wave of fog envelops the valley. It is beautiful in its quiet, mysterious way, but it is also deadly on a drive home late at night. I can only see a few feet in front of me at all times. I peer over my dashboard, but all I can see is the silvery mists. I only know of an approaching vehicle when the vapers glow yellow. It is an odd isolation. I keep driving on, despite my limited vision. I concentrate on the small amount of road in front of me. I have driven this route 100 times, my experience won’t fail me now. I cannot see ice on the ground or pedestrians on the side-walks, but I am not afraid. My car skids, but I calmly right it. I am alone tonight in this mists. I am my only danger and my only protector. I only need to fear in myself and trust in myself for as long as the fog hangs thick.