The morning began with a heavy fog hanging in the field behind The Oasis at Four Queen Palms. The air was quiet; not even the mockingbirds’ trills broke the tranquility. No grinding, mechanical vehicle sounds came from the faraway road that buttresses the neighborhood. It was a perfectly peaceful morning.
By noon, the fog dissipated. Life stirred. The birds chirped. A brown squirrel ran across the porch screen. Vehicle sounds could be now heard in the distance.
But it was in those early morning hours when this domain was covered in the thick fog that the world felt serene and at peace.
Life has always been uncertain. No one can predict with sureness how his life will turn out, what the future will bring, how the cycle of life will progress. We can only look ahead with hope and optimism. We can plan all we want, but there are those factors that seem to insist on inserting themselves into our plans.
Our future is now filled with even more uncertainty as war drums are banging with a consistent cadence now.
The trouble is, real war is not as glamorous as the jingoes, belligerents, aggressors, politicians – call them what you will – enjoy portraying. It will be miraculous if we dodge a hot state of war.
I’d rather the fog I see across the field at The Oasis not be from gunfire . . . .
Lady Susan Marie Molloy
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