Foggy nights are my glory...

I've been spoiled by summers (and winters) in Nova Scotia. Visiting my parents, I've begun to take advantage of the heaviness of fog that sweeps across the town, eating sun and warmth and replacing them with a dense, damp mist.

There's something I very much enjoy about the idea that the world around me only exists for a few metres in each direction -- and that little pocket of clarity follows me, hiding the rest of the world and innumerable possibilities.

Tonight is such a night -- a rarity in our polluted little city. The fog tonight follows a day of heavy rain. Humidity is nearly tangible and the hazy globes of streetlights fade into darkness.

I couldn't resist a walk to the beach (a habit I'm trying to revisit) -- and better still, there aren't many who love nights like this as I do. They are only surpassed by the summer lightning storm, or those hot vicious winds that toss you about.

Here I sit, writing all mellow and reflective on the weather. A sure sign that I'm avoiding another issue. It's a nifty little trick.

All I will say is that sometimes, it is surprising how an issue from the far past -- which you thought you'd adequately dealt with and acclimatized to -- can suddenly snap in your face... leaving you shaken, unhappy and slightly humiliated.

Worse still, there's not a damn thing I can do about it.