Understanding Life Through the Fog

March 25, 2024

Soft blue wings burst from the thick, palm tree. The leaves are mint green, swaying in the warm breeze, bursting oxygen molecules into the air. Oxygen soaks into the bark of the trees, traveling throughout the roots. The roots are strong and resilient; they never break from the molecules bouncing inside of its thin structure.

Brenda, the soft, blue bird fixates their green eyes on the bark. The bark has deep holes in it, dug by raccoons. Brenda’s soft voice cracks into the bark of the tree. Its melody is strong like the metal blue bird with intricate carved designs of feathers raised high and proud. Brenda’s pride stems from the long, deep trenches of sinkholes they flew over. The steam would blind their vision and burn their eyes. The euphoria of their body gliding through the wind became a battle with time. Time cracked underneath their wings, drenching them in sweat that accumulated to heavy droplets, balancing on their wings and pushing on their spines. Chills covered their bodies, and their throat became shut tight. Trapped in the mist, they became blind. But their bodies still felt the moist air and the thickness of the oxygen that felt like a metal door, impossible to fly through. 

Brenda breathes in the thick molecules and raises her blue wings high into the air. Her wings never fall, like the palm tree that stands in front of her. 

Melanie’s sweet and tender voice draws a clear path in the fog. Her blue body colors the steam dark and light shades of blues, which link to one another and then clash as they rise and break apart. Finally, all the blue vapor turns sky blue.

Mint blue light bulbs crystallize in the air. The mist freezes in time. Mint colored light reflects into the blue sky, freezing the puffy, white clouds and cooling the yellow sun. Embers of dark blue turn the brightly colored blue day into pitch black. The light of the sun is hidden behind the black shadows. 

Melanie gently holds Brenda’s talons, creating an alliance between all the blue birds to fly together. Their lungs rise with their wings, and they fly through the thick mist, not around it. Their bodies no longer are frozen but agile, despite the immense agony that evades their bodies and crushes their insides. 

All the birds inhale the sunlight and turn a light blue color. 

The birds are five feet tall. They are unknown to every human that lives in the world as they live in a rock cave, which to the birds, appears to take up every inch of the world. The reality is the cave takes up the space of an abandoned forest, rejected by humans because there were not any methods to clear out the blinding fog. The blue birds built hollow structures made of blue fog and nurtured their hollow bodies to effortlessly navigate their enclave.

It was always their will to continue living life, letting go of their burdens that allowed them to rise higher into the sky. Or what they believed to be the sky, because the clouds only touched the top of the cave. But in their delusions, they found inner peace because they had escaped the brutal reality of the outside world where humans and animals coexist. A reality for humans which also forces them to escape, through daydreams and false euphorias. But escaping only results in humans burying their problems deep down into internal caves – every human only has access to and can see their own caves – because like the blue birds, humans often live in bubbles and truly only understand the struggles and triumphs of the area of land they inhabit, unless they venture into other places for long enough to no longer be an outsider. Like a chain, all these experiences in these different places lock together, impacting each other and how each human views the world and processes information and events.

Rachael Weiser is a talented, passionate, and motivated writer. She is also a curious, insightful, caring, compassionate, observant, and creative person. Rachael is very eager and excited to work for a company as a writer after she graduates college!



Featured image by Ruben Ortega.