This photo was taken early one morning many years ago when I lived a short block from Green Lake in north Seattle. I could barely see the street I had to cross to reach the lake. I heard car engines in the distance and was guided by the hazy blur of their fog lights. Once on the path, only trees loomed ahead of me and a deep silence.
I was hungry to take a picture, to capture a clear shape in the fog and was surprised suddenly to see other people coming toward me from the gloom. I thought no one else would be stupid enough to step out into such deep fog. Silly me. It’s where we all find ourselves from time to time.
This scene is briefly recreated in chapter eighteen of Turtle Season. I think the image illuminates the sense of discovery and the shock of the unexpected that Anna, the protagonist, experiences in the novel.
I’ve kept this picture close for years. The scene is full of metaphor for me and may be for you as well. As you look at this photo, know there’s a wonderful lake on the right. There, but invisible. And the people photographed are all indistinguishable. I’d be curious to hear from anyone who wants to comment on it. Does it tell you a story?