The fog on the lake hangs low. It knows all the secrets we seek, and I’m curious. Thick and gray. The dim mist so enticing, I want to swallow it whole. I open my lungs and inhale the haze. It’s bitter on my tongue like cold coffee, but I don’t stop. I like the way it cuts at me. I wade into the water, into the gloom. I stand with my ankles wet, eyes forward. I can’t see anything but blur, but the unknown has always given me a sense of comfort. Being at one with the water and the rocks and the fog is enough to keep me content. I mindlessly push forward until my hipbones are being lulled by soft waves. The cool water devours me. Eyes closed. Muscles tense. I’m under. My nose tickles on the exhale. It is silent. Mother sea holds me, and I feel secure. The only clue I leave is a pair of suede sandals on the rocks.