The morning fog at the watershed began to disappear. A gentle breeze rolled across the water’s surface, sweeping a wall of fog toward the west.
Was it really moving west or was it dissipating? Or maybe was it a little bit of both?
Isn’t it strange how we can see the mountain so well, then not so well and then not all? That wall of fog created a visual barrier from what lies beyond, even though the wall itself is not solid by any stretch of the imagination.
It makes you wonder if you actually see what you think you’re seeing. Sounds crazy, huh?
What do you see in this picture to the right? Do you see the fog lifting? Or is it a cloud in the sky? Do you see the fishermen on the boat? Do you see the dew on the grass? Did you notice them before I mentioned it? How about the water spout? I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw that. I prayed it would show up on the picture…and it did. But just as quickly as I snapped the shot, it was gone.
Sometimes things are right in front of us and we create our own wall of fog and don’t see them. Our lack of sight is just as real a visual block as the fog was.
Ironically, sometimes when our attention is drawn to things, we see it was there all the time. I remember when I got my first mountain bike and my new charcoal gray car. All of a sudden I could see bikes and gray cars all over the place, something I hadn’t really noticed before. They were there…I just didn’t see them.
Is it possible to see all there really is to see? Or are we doomed to selective vision?