Longing for faith

I've always loved shooting in fog, and used to rush out the door on those rare foggy mornings, knowing I might not get another chance to get that particular blend of light. But in this peculiar winter almost every morning has been foggy, and every evening we see stars, and instead of rushing out to shoot, I worry: what happened to the rain?

As humans we grow to understand that change is inevitable. And with luck, as the years go by, we get a little better at dancing through the inevitable shifts of circumstance. But along with that increasing flexibility comes a paired awareness, that less and less of life is under our control; that all we cling to now may eventually be taken away; that though each change brings a gift, the necessary adjustments may well prove very difficult.

And as that wariness sets in, I find myself longing for the innocent faith of my childhood; for simpler times and calmer scenes and and the patient reassurance of Dame Julian of Norwich -- that "All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well."