Once, for a brief time, I lived up a hill in a town just below the mountains. The mornings were quite enjoyable, as the drive into the city gave an eyeful to see. It was through a winding path, between many hills, which I journeyed to come down from this town. Toward the bottom of the hill I could see a mysterious mist stretch across the land sitting below, that each day I would venture into. Yet, each day when I left that fog, I left something behind
Each morning I woke up early to get ready for the day and once in the car I made my way towards the hill pass. A winding road that passed through the hills, which towered over the road as if trying to be mountains, was the way down. The path down went back and forth, to the left, to the right, and then left again. Down and down I went on this path as steadily as possible, till I made it the end of the zigzagging pattern. Before I completely descended from this corridor of false mountains, I saw what lay before me, a land covered in fog that I could not determine the end.
This fog was dense and it resembled an ocean with no end in sight. Just before I entered the fog I would look above seeing the sun shine so bright that I thought surely I could see down inside this thick gray curtain. Yet once in the fog I might as well be blind, as I could not see more than a few feet ahead of me. I could not help but to feel a sense of excitement as I charged into the unknown. What was ahead of this fog? Where was I going? I found something in the fog.
My childlike imagination took over as wild undertakings of an adventure filled my mind. Perhaps there was some foul beast in the fog about to lunge out at me in attempt to end my life. As I went deeper into the ocean of fog my anticipation would grow as I wondered what was at the end of this canopy of mist. I wanted to believe that upon leaving the fog I would be in a far off land at the beginning of some grand adventure. Perhaps one where I wielded a giant sword...