Folly pier in fog

The first few days of Thanksgiving were spent in a fog, with trips to seafood restaurants and drizzle and wondering if the sun would ever come back again, until Thursday came and we could be truly thankful for the blue skies and sea and mild temperatures and amid the bustle of preparing the Thanksgiving meal, I could sit in the sun and feel the ocean breeze against my face and feel thankful for what I have left, for what God has given me, because so often I sit in my drowse and worry about the next day or the next week or the next month and forget the sun and the beach and eating seafood on the shore at Thanksgiving, but in the past decade and the present week. Even in my losses, there is much to be thankful about despite the evil of the day, there are still many gifts to consider. That is what these days are about, despite the worries of the next day, keeping me up and worrying the lines in my face, like the waves channeling the lines into the sand which only show when the tide is out. Still, there is beauty in the times of fog as well and a mournful sadness which offers us a quiet beauty that we don't get when the sun is high and the skies are blue. There is depth in the fog which doesn't appear on the sunny days.