Foggy Mind, Foggy Skies

When the fog finally clears from my mind, and I start to see a correlation between my extended depression and my hormones, the lake fogs over. As the rain pours down, roads are flooded and trees fall, the entire ashram is left without power. The kitchen is the only warm place now, and we do our chopping in the light of seemingly ancient ship's lanterns. The atmosphere is jolly good, as is the food. After an early Satsang in the Radha room, we stay for some more happy chants. Walking with our candles to the lake afterwards, we see that there is hardly any beach left. It is all water now. 
 
 In the morning I flip the switch and there is light. The rain has stopped.