If you've never been in a fog so thick that you can't see where to go, to read it sounds like a flight of fancy. I've been in such a fog as a young man driving home. You're creeping along a highway hoping what you're taking for a white line means something. Simultaneously, you're desperately eyes locked on the road ahead and fearing what might be coming up behind you. For some reason you feel compelled to get to the safety of home. Adam was in such a fog. Adam had walked most of the way to Nod with his son Cain. To lose one son was a misery too great to bear. To never see the other again made it a journey he'd had to take. That was days ago and he'd been following the sun and the stars West back to Eve, his garden, and his dogs. The fog had begun lightly that morning with the path closed in but clear. Now he was on his knees looking as the path clearly split. Perhaps the Y would rejoin itself just a bit down the way. Perhaps one simply ended beyond w
Adam sat with his back to 'The Garden' fence and looked up at the predawn moon. He saw Sirius (the dog constellation) plainly but what was the name of that next constellation? Eve had named it and traced with her finger the bow and the belt. The belt, yeah, yeah, Orion! Orion walked with his Sirius on cold mornings as he had with his own dogs. He'd have to get home soon and walk 'em. A cool wind rang The Garden chimes urging him to move. The peace and the beauty begged him to stay. He'd dally. The new garden was slowly coming together. The raised beds were laid out some with permanent stone walls some with whatever was available. Soil had been scarce or more exactly worms and bugs were scarce. They'd come and were slowly showing up, 'tho not always the good ones first! Thus what he'd planted was thin and haphazard. Better something to eat than nothing. A couple of pears, a nectarine, and a fig, with hope for the future but nothing for tonight'