# Whispers in the Mist

## A Quiet Arrival

Mist rolls in softly, like an old friend who knows no rush. On a crisp December morning in 2025, it settled over the hills near my home, turning familiar paths into something new. Edges blurred, trees faded into gray, and the world hushed. No harsh lines, no rush of clarity—just a gentle hold that asked me to slow down. In that space, worries felt smaller, less defined.

## Trusting the Unseen

We often fear what we can't see clearly. Mist mirrors those moments when life clouds over—a job change, a quiet doubt, or the ache of waiting. Yet, walking through it taught me to lean into the feel of each step. The ground stays solid beneath, even if the horizon hides. It's not about forcing vision, but sensing the way forward with breath and presence. Hands outstretched, not to push away, but to touch what's near.

## The Gift of Lifting

Eventually, mist parts. Sunlight filters through, revealing dew-kissed leaves and distant peaks sharper than before. What was hidden now shines with quiet detail. This cycle reminds us: uncertainty isn't an enemy. It softens us, prepares us for light renewed.

- Listen to the hush.
- Feel the earth underfoot.
- Let go of needing to see far.

In mist's embrace, we find room to simply be.

*Trust the mist; it always knows when to fade.*