Things that happen in the East

“Mist (verb): to be in the state of overt humidity, closer to, but not equal to, rain. ex: When asked if it was raining today, I looked outside and could answer neither yes nor no, so I responded that it was misting.”

I’m a very direct person. There is little that perturbs me me more than indecision. My least favorite feeling is that which hangs over the space between yes and no, here or there, chicken or steak. That feeling which I so loathe has today culminated itself in the weather, in the minute globules suspended outside my windows, in the existence of mist. If you’ve ever been to an amusement park, you probably have a positive impression of mist. Conveniently placed along the path to the most popular attractions at Disney World/Universal/Dollywood, misting machines keep the crowds calm and sedate, despite the fact that they are waiting in line for a ride that will take roughly 1/30th the time of the wait. Man-made mist, like man-made snow, is an invention used to counteract the heat getting in the way of our plans, and, in similar fashion, is a completely different phenomenon in its natural form. In its natural habitat, the eastern United States, mist makes a habit of confusing westerners out of knowing the state of the weather. It is indubitably indescribable, not altogether wet, but certainly not dry, neither clear nor opaque, present but equally distant. It’s mystifying, if you will. themist As we skied along the soaked Vermont roads, I could feel the millions of tiny droplets fizzing into my face, dancing upon my skin but refusing to actually break. It wasn’t raining. I wasn’t dry. My shins had water running down them, my hands blistering from the expansion of my pole grips, but blaming something as elusive as mist felt futile. The internet doesn’t help much. Mist can be caused by weather or volcanoes, but isn’t definitive enough to be called fog. It can come from the warm or the cold, our breath or a machine. It has religious, scientific and metaphysical connotations, but no one knows exactly what it denotes because, as it seems, no one knows exactly what it is. Like I said, I am a direct person. While I appreciate abstract thinking (have you read my blog?) I at the very least prefer to choose between my theories and go with it. Today, though, I’m left hanging in the space between inquiry and understanding, which is, you must understand, quite frustrating. But, hey, as Stephen King conceptualized, it could be worse:


One thought on “Things that happen in the East

  1. Where do you come up with these things you write about Annie? I am amazed. I think I will ponder on the meaning of “mist” all day today :)….thanx for always giving me something to ponder on!

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