Sound, too, was muted. A minivan coming from behind sounding like a hybrid; later I turned to see who was riding what I could have sworn was an approaching bicycle - and was surprised to see a Toyota Prius.
This photograph (above) was taken this morning, looking directly into the East; but even the sunlight is muted today. Walking, peering into the mist, it felt as if the light was working its way toward me from one side... and I was working to see the light from the other.
I think that's a useful metaphor for spiritual sightedness. Divinity probing the darkness - and my response searching in turn (with varied degrees of commitment), from the human point of view. I am rooted in the mundane, yet always peering into the fog because I know that I will find God.
And then there are those glorious moments when we break through the clouds and everything is laid out clearly and the view is breathtaking. I'll take those when they come, but God is most certainly very much evident in my struggle to see.
Walk in the light. And if you're not there yet, walk regardless. Press onward, toward the ineffable.