The fog

As I sleepily pulled open the blinds, something was different. It took me a few seconds to realise that everything had vanished. Mother Nature had pulled off one of her greatest illusions whilst I was asleep. All 800ft of glass, steel and concrete was gone in a theatrical flourish. Even the flashing beacon at the apex had disappeared. Canary Wharf had vanished along with everything else around it. David Copperfield couldn't have done it better.
Zipping up my jacket, I took my first step outside just as the damp scent hit my nostrils and rushed down into my lungs. Horizon was replaced by an eerie blanket of dense fog with nothing but silhouettes of bare trees to guide the way. The world seemed like a different place.
Journeying into the thick of it, I couldn't help but wonder what it means to feel lost. Sometimes we find ourselves in a personal fog with no sense of direction and our questions are greeted with silence. The sense of disorientation is so palpable; we forget that beyond the clouds is a bright shining sun of potential that has been there the whole time.
Some days are more dazzling than others and sometimes we just need to get caught in a fog in order to see things clearly.