After a day spent tweaking my blog’s title, theme, and previous posts, I am beginning to think that perhaps I ought not to have taken up the gauntlet. (Don’t ask how well I supervised my fourth grader’s schoolwork today.) Glancing at the posts in the Blogging 101 Commons, I would guess that the theme troubles are just beginning: as soon as one area is improved, another goes downhill. In my case, I am not enamored of “Big Brother”‘s font, but my title is showing up better.
Even Blogging 101’s third assignment–saying “Hi” to other bloggers–wasn’t easy for this introvert. NONE of my Facebook friends are blogging on wordpress.com, or else they avoided connecting their Facebook accounts. Now I can’t find a way to disconnect my Facebook account from wordpress.com: I avoid giving access to my Facebook profile and list of friends, but, in my quest for like-minded bloggers, I agreed to the connection–from which no divorce now seems possible. Making new connections is the obvious solution, but that means stepping out into uncharted territory: “Beyond here, there be dragons.”
Ah, well, this photograph from last September reminds me that beauty may be hiding beneath the fog, just out of sight. As so often happens when we set out on a family hike–the “we” is reduced these days, down from seven to three or four–the weather was not ideal on that September afternoon. It didn’t rain, but Graveyard Fields, a flat mountain valley in the Pisgah National Forest, was shrouded in fog. Hiking in fog is a surreal experience: you are surrounded by trees, shrubs, and mountains, yet you can see only a few feet ahead. Even on a sunny day, it is easy to get lost at Graveyard Fields, which has several trails that intersect with back-country camping sites; on a foggy day, I would not recommend going it alone.
On the other hand, there is a forced solitude, a necessary quiet, that descends with the fog. Cloudy weather typically reduces the number of hikers, which is a welcome change at a spot as busy as Graveyard Fields. On this particular day, taking the trail off to the left, we hiked quietly and carefully over the muddy ground and then on to the Upper Falls, which you can just glimpse in the top photograph.
As you can see, the clinging mists subdued even my spirited son. But I don’t regret our hike that day, even if we did walk more slowly and uncertainly because it was difficult to see where we were going. There were glimpses of light through the trees, hints of vistas beneath the layer of fog. As the day wore on, the mists dissipated, and we could see the solid forms of rock and stream. In the same way, moments of understanding will surely come as I become more familiar with the technical terms of blogging. These difficult days of blogging confusion–these, too, shall pass.
That September day, the beginnings of fall were evident in the changing color of the leaves, in the crisp coolness of the air. I, too, am experiencing a season of change in my life, as yet another son has left for college this fall. There is beauty in this new season of life as well–more time for some things, even as the time for other things slips away.