After 10 AM. Imagine the scene at 5 AM. Can you see my driveway? The road?

It has been a very foggy day here in west Michigan.  My day began early, which is not usual for me.  I was up before 5 AM and Sylvia rose shortly afterward.  A few minutes later, we were out the door, in the car and on the road to the airport.  Sylvia had an early flight to catch.  Our trip there and my return were an adventure.  Afterward, I checked on Sylvia’s flight status and all was “on time.”  I made a quick Facebook post and then got some more sleep before getting up to feed kitty, and brew some coffee for me.

A friend and neighbor had sent an e-mail expressing hope that Sylvia made her flight okay.  I sent an answer.  here is part of it:

You must have seen my Facebook post this morning.  It was a “hairy” drive in to the airport this morning.  Sylvia arrived there okay and [mostly] on time.  Her presence with me really helped on the way there.  The fog was much worse on the way home.  Shortly after I turned east on Nth St, I realized that I couldn’t see the buildings beside the road.  As I stopped for a traffic light, I prayed for a commuter to follow to the expressway.  There was one just in front of me, he didn’t take my entrance ramp, but he led me straight to it.  As I drove up the ramp, I prayed for another—preferably a truck—that I could follow to the my exit.  As I looked for traffic as I prepared to merge onto the expressway, my heart was lifted high when I saw a bulk hauler truck coming along beside of me.  My prayer: “Thank you Lord!”  Another vehicle slid in between us, which gave me not one but two guides going before me.  Half an hour later, they left me at my exit.  I made a right turn at the end of the exit ramp with a prayer for being able to see the next road when I got there.  At that point I could barely see the shoulder of the road through the dense fog.  I noticed a car ahead of me that was sitting sideways, and realized he was on the road at the stop sign waiting for me to go past him.  As I offered yet another prayer of thanks, two sets of approaching headlights appeared out of the gloom.  As they passed, their headlight illuminated the intersection even better, leaving no doubt where to make my turn.  As I arrived, they passed, and I made that turn.  Once again the fog closed in around me.  The headlights and fog lights cast a yellow brown tint on the vapor.  This in turn gave the feeling of driving down a single lane whose sides are flanked by gigantic fall trees that spread their autumnal canopy over the road.  I had the feeling that I was on a gently upward incline (even though I know the road is flat) and making a sweeping left turn (yes, I know the road is as straight as a taut string).  Then the dim glow of the light on the community center and the church sign began to appear through the fog.  I thought, “My turn must be about here.”  I began a cautious turn and yes, I was on the road where I live and on the correct side (right in the middle—don’t you love country living?).  My progress slowed to 15 mph because of poor visibility.  (About that time I realized the lack of painted lines on our gravel road can be a bit of a disadvantage.  It’s not just that I’ll never have a clean car for as long as I live here.)  Then the familiar sight of my mailbox appeared in dim and blurry outline.  I couldn’t see the driveway but as I turned, once again I could see that I was “in the middle of my sweet spot.”  My prayers continued with thanksgiving for myself and petitions for those who faced a similar ordeal.

Once in the house, I went into the office, surfed to Delta’s Website and checked on Sylvia’s flight.  It tagged as being “on time.”  Then I heard my recliner and heating pad calling sweetly to me.  I responded and don’t remember any of the next two hours.

Even at 10 AM, I wasn’t able to see the road that passes in front of our house.  Nearly two hours later and the road is visible, but as noon approaches the scene is still wrapped in a gauzy gray shroud of fog.  Orphan Annie where are you?  We need an encouraging song from you.

Postscript: As I was writing that final sentence I heard the county dispatcher putting out a call for police assistance.  An accident has the expressway now closed at my exit.  At least travelers have the advantage of better light by which to see.