Happenings

Earlier this year, I awoke one cold winter morning and peered out the window to an unusual sight. The entire neighborhood appeared to be wrapped in a soft white blanket. It was clear, that the fog had rolled in during the night. Most people might not understand why that weather phenomena touched my heart so, but they should know that the fog-even the tiniest bit of it reminds me of “home”. Home for me, for my heart, will always be in the tiny (or at least it was when I lived there) town of Clovis, California. In Clovis, we had REAL fog, Tully Fog it was called. Fog so thick you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face, fog so thick you felt as if you were blanketed from all the troubles of the world. I loved the fog. And anytime we get fog in El Paso…my mind races back to my childhood days playing in the Tully Fog.

When the fog rolled in to Clovis, we awoke to a feeling of comfort while the thick grey blanket wrapped itself securely around our house.

When the fog rolled into Clovis, we lingered at home a bit longer since school would have to start late. My mom would make me a steamy cup of hot chocolate with it’s own layer of fog floating gently on top. The hot chocolate would warm my insides so that when I stepped out the door on the way to school I was not chilled by the dewey fog.

When the fog rolled into Clovis, the glaring headlights of oncoming traffic were nothing but tiny specks of light crawling, creeping desperately along the road through the dense cloud.

When the fog rolled into Clovis, the children played on the playground-they could be heard-but not seen. Their smiling faces were hidden by a layer of white softenss. The sounds of their laughter gave the only clue that they were even there.

When the fog rolled into Clovis all was peaceful, and calm. As a child I always enjoyed the peaceful feeling of waking up, wrapped in the fog.