Cloud-Drenched

The world around me had become soft and wispy, out of focus and cloud drenched. Everything was reduced to blurs of chalky color, darker tones amongst lighter, with no real definition or delineation of where one thing ended and another began. I would barely know which way was up and which was down if my feet hadn’t been firmly fixed to the ground. The fog had descended so fast that I hadn’t been able to get my bearings before the world went hazy—I didn’t know what was in front of me or to my sides, which footfall would land securely and which would see me tripping over a log or twisting my ankle in a hole. My host had told me, “Be wary of walking alone in the woods too late, and always stay to the path.” I’d thought she was just being superstitious. I should have listened.

I stood still and let the fog hover around me like a blanket, tendrils of soft white ebbing and flowing with my breath. Perhaps the fog would lift as quickly as it had fallen? Moments passed, seconds turning into minutes and minutes feeling like an eternity. I couldn’t stand here for too long, eventually night would fall and the fog wouldn’t matter as darkness enveloped the woods. There were no street lights or houses out this way, no lighthouse to call the ships home and warn of treacherous waters. The thought of nightfall felt like the closing of a casket.

I looked around, hoping to be able to see some shape in the murky waters of the world but all I could see were shades of white and soft shadows. I began to feel desperate—surely I’d be able to see something soon. Movement to my right caught my eye. I peered into the opaque white world and slowly a new color emerged. Vibrant green did its best to cut through the fog that had gathered around me like cotton. It seemed to be swaying gently, as if someone held a lantern as they dared to defy the bleached-out world. I called to them and began to walk toward the light, being agonizingly careful with my steps as I gingerly made my way toward the virid beacon.

As I moved forward the light retreated and terror washed over me, fearful that I would once again be smothered in the white shroud that surrounded me. “Wait!” I cried, picking up my pace as much as I dared, but the faster I moved through the thick wall of fog the faster the light seemed to move away from me. But I could see the light slightly better, saw it flicker and dance like an emerald flame suspended in the air. I tried to move faster, calling out to whomever it was as fear made me move forward with careless speed.

The root of a tree grabbed my ankle and I stumbled to the side, trying to catch my balance but just moving further away from the light. I lost the battle and felt myself falling, flinging out my arms and squeezing my eyes, bracing for impact. My hands and hip hit packed dirt and I sat still for a moment in shock—no head hitting a tree? No sharp rocks cutting up my hands?

I sat for a moment in gratitude that I wasn’t hurt worse than a bruised hip, then opened my eyes. As I did my shock deepend, growing from surprise to alarm. I sat on the dirt path, the sky above me clear and painted with the dying glow of day. The trees were dark sentinels painted in the golden light of the setting sun.

The fog was completely gone, as was the light I’d been following.

As I stared into the woods in the direction I’d seen the light I became more unsettled but I wasn’t certain why. Had it been my fear of losing my way in the murky gloom that had surrounded me? Or was it how the fog had fallen so suddenly, obscuring everything, and just as quickly lifted? Then I realized that the night was silent. There were no birds, no insects, not even the rustle of leaves. The symphony of sounds that had accompanied me during my walk before the fog had completely disappeared and the only sound I could hear over the chaotic drumming of my heart was my own harsh breathing.

I gingerly got up from where I was sprawled and turned in the direction of my inn. I decided it was best to heed my host’s warnings and not be out in the forest at night or to veer off the path again.

Later I still felt unsettled. I sat safely in my room and puzzled out the feeling as I gazed out at the night toward the forest. As I did a jolt of fear shot through me like an icy finger running down my back as I realized—I’d been alone in the woods when the fog lifted. If no one else had been there, what was the light I had been following and where had it been leading me?