Tule Fog, Transcendence, and Tangled Traffic
January 11, 2026
Every week, most every day, I pass the same spot. On my way to work headed west, I’m usually finishing my daily breakfast apple about the time I get to the Arden Way and Watt Avenue intersection. Seems like the light is never green there, and there’s always a wait. I’m thinking about what’s on the calendar, what I have to do, who I have to see. In five and a half years, I’ve probably passed this intersection a couple of thousand times, coming and going.
On December 28, a day of particularly thick tule fog, there was next to nothing to see except for red coronas the fog diffused into eerie light. A few days later, on January 3 between the dramatic storms, a brief moment of transcendental light. And then, on January 6, an almost clear, almost ordinary afternoon. No need for more than a sweater. Six months hence or less, shortsleeves will suffice.
Somewhere, in the fog, or bathed in glorious beams, and or in the ordinary tangled traffic of everyday life is our church. The building, yes, but more importantly, the community it gathers together, united in one baptism, one faith, one Lord.
Blessings,
