Article August 24, 1998 Issue

Dispersing the heavy mists of depression

Don't be fooled by the mental fog.

By True Henderson

One particularly beautiful day when our children were still quite young, I was lying on the grass beside our tent watching them play. We were camping right on the edge of a white, sandy, ocean beach in New Zealand, where we live. Just beyond the children, the sea was blue and shimmering, the sky was cloudless, the birds were singing, and the crickets were chirping. It was quite magical.

Then I noticed something strange on the horizon. A thick mist was moving swiftly toward us, obliterating everything in its path. As we watched, it got closer and closer until very soon there was no headland, and then no ocean, and then no beach, and then no us. The mist was so thick I couldn't even see the children a few meters in front of me. They quickly came and joined me, the older ones talking excitedly.

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