Clearing

I left the house at 9:41 p.m. and before making it to the end of the street, I encountered the fog.

The cliche is "thick as pea soup."

I'd argue this ground cloud was on par with clam chowder. 

Even after leaving the neighborhood, there were dense patches on the winding, hilly road. 

A little more than an hour later, I was driving back. 

The fog was gone. In fact, the sky had become so clear, I could see my old pal, Orion. Jupiter (I think) was glowing brightly, too.

And I could see farther down the winding, hilly road. 

It struck me: What a difference an hour makes.

No coincidences

Throughout my life, there have been times I've felt like I was being called to do something.

Little omens would pop up. Something that seemed totally random and out of place would show up before me, hinting which direction I should take. 

I've almost always listened to these signs. And, almost always, things have worked out. 

The problem: Sometimes, you get things you think probably are omens, but you're not sure toward what you're being directed.