I am house sitting for my parents right now. For the last five years, a woman has lived across the street from my folks who has decorated her lawn via a life-sized ceramic fox in her front yard. Every time I look out the four-paned glass front window, I think, Oh look, a fox. It’s so still. This is generally followed by, No actually, that’s the same lawn decoration that’s been out there for the last five years, genius.
I swear it moves sometimes. Right now it’s looking directly at me with its glass eyes. It’s playing with my mind. Mean fake fox. Jerk.
The air is heating up and lifting off the snow right now, so everything looks foggy. It’s like somebody took a giant paintbrush and dipped it in a thin layer of white primer and then just went to town. The thing about fog is that it removes your ability to see farther than one hundred feet away. This morning, if what I saw was the only truth in the world, then the entire world would be composed of the eight houses on the street in front of me, and the three I can see past my backyard.
I’m glad there’s more than meets the eye.
And good morning to you.