Mary Bedy Photography

I was looking at some of my “fog” images the other day and I had a random thought float through my head. I was thinking walking through life is kind of like waking through a fog bank. You just never know what you’re going to bump into. And when you turn on your bright headlights, all they do is reflect the fog back to you. Somehow, I kind of find that comforting. Obviously, there are surprises along the way, but usually the good surprises outweigh, or at least balance out the bad ones. Part of being OK with the unknown is being in the here and now and not worrying about past actions or future challenges. I like to think there are no monsters under the bed, no boogey man in the closet and that most people are well-meaning and kind. Maybe I’m naive, but that’s how I see it and I’m not going to change my mind, even in the face of my life experiences. I also like the silence of fog - the dense atmosphere buffering the clatter of life. It appears like a blanket of protection.            I f

I live in a small town in Michigan called Saint Clair, population about 5,000. It’s located about 18 miles south of the Blue Water Bridge in Port Huron which links Sarnia Canada with the US mainland. Most of you know from your geography classes that in this part of Michigan, Canada is directly East of the US instead of north. When I go downtown, I’m looking at Courtright, Canada across the river from Saint Clair. The river at this point is a little over a mile wide, so I can clearly see the houses and the traffic on the road along the river there unless it’s really foggy or there’s a heavy snowstorm. The Saint Clair river runs between Lake Huron and Lake Saint Clair, with the current running south from Lake Huron at about eight or nine knots. Some days the river is angry with white caps, but most days she’s relatively calm and just goes about her business of flowing south. Along the river here in town, we have the supposedly longest fresh water boardwalk in the world. That is a b