Shrouded in Fog

A fog shrouded road
It could be anywhere in America
A gently curving
Now straight
Stretch of two lane highway
This one happening to be in the Michigan North

Bright headlights are useless in the pre dawn darkness
Serving only to blind you by reflecting the white light back
And a all around
Surrounding the vehicle in an impenetrable halo of brightness
Low beams are the order of the day

I've driven this stretch of highway thousands of times
All over the last twenty five years
Even so
I lose track of the bends and straights occasionally
Being mildly surprised that there is suddenly a curve appearing in front of me

I've been on other roads
In other parts of the country
Roads I didn't know at all
And driven too fast
Curves and intersections leaping from the fog
Like a sudden right cross or a hook
In a boxing match on HBO

Always a stab on the brakes
Making the red halo around the rear of the car
Then going much slower for a little while
Until a long straight
A predictable stretch of roadway
Will lull me into a false sense of consistency

Who cares if I can't see more than fifty feet in front of me
Sixty miles per hour seems appropriate
But then something will change
Sometimes
It's a strangely shaped mailbox
Or cleverly unique property sign
Giving the sense of an animal
Or a person
Suddenly too close to the road
Heart jumping into my throat
The brake light halo pops on once again
The cautious coward once again taking control

But it's so peaceful
Gliding through the night
In the fog shrouded world
Only dark hints coming and going
Giving the only indications of a world outside your little sphere
Reality only existing in this little bubble
It's the closest thing to peace I think I've found
It's the closest thing to real contentment

Even better is to stop the car
On a lonely stretch of road next to a river or lake
Just as the dawn starts to break
Gently illuminating all in a dusky glow
Still unable to see much in any direction
It's like being on another planet
With no other humans
Nothing real
Except the sand under you
And the water lapping at your feet

Inevitably
A noise will intrude
A car
A fog horn
Something

And the fog lifts
Reality pulls you back to it's cluttered madness