Winter Fog

Swaddled. Isn't that a peculiar word? Sort of a combination of cuddled and swathed. The Oxford English Dictionary defines the verb "to swaddle" as "To wrap round with bandages; to envelop with wrappings; to swathe, bandage." Mostly the reference people know is about Jesus in the manger being wrapped in swaddling clothes, but the more common usage is to swaddle a corpse with linen cloths. How apropos. It is also used to describe dressing a wound. Hum.

All that to say that the world this morning is swaddled in fog. The air is fuzzy and out of focus. It's enough to give you a headache. Sometimes it is a comfort to be enclosed and covered with the soft white mist. Other times it feels very restrictive. One wants to know what is coming! I suppose for a baby fresh from the confines of the womb, it is comforting to feel the closeness of swaddling cloths. Helps them know the boundaries and that they are not adrift in a huge unknown.

It doesn't take long before you want to be able to move your arms and legs, before you long to bust out of the confines of the swaddling clothes the better to explore the wide and wonderful world. Maybe that's where it hits for the corpse. Longing to slip the confines of this earth for wider spaces. Wanting the fog of this world to be lifted to reveal the eternal. To explore the wide and wonderful beyond.

At any rate, Sugar and I both agree that we want to get back inside out of the damp swirling fog. Neither of us expected such weather in late November. Winter is certainly acting oddly this year.