In the Central Valley, come fall and winter, we have lots of fog, Tule Fog, (named after tule grass at least according to Wikipedia). Some days the fog never burns off.
But I don’t think fog is all bad.
Fog is a blanket of silence. It’s a cloud laced with magic, in the fog you can be transported anywhere; any world, or country, real or imagined, you can be anyone you wish. And reality isn’t staring at you saying “WRONG!”
When I worked in the Ag department, some of my favorite days were the foggy ones, listening to the “drip” off the trees, and the lowing cattle and bleating sheep “far off” in the distance.
I don’t know why I like foggy days so much; maybe because I grew up in the country, surrounded by orchards that instantly became Narnia, or some other world.
It could be because of the summer vacations to Monterey when we’d leave100+ degrees, and suddenly find ourselves at the ocean, 50 degrees and foggy. Or it might be because foggy days are an excuse to stay in bed or curl up near the fire, with a book and a cup of co-co or tea.
Don’t get me wrong, I love the sun too, and come March I’m ready for winter to be over.
Years ago Mom found herself getting depressed by the fog, her solution; leave the Christmas lights up longer. According to her, that bit of color helped. Christmas lights do look good in the fog. And I do love me some Christmas lights.
But if I had to guess, I’d say my love of the fog started at my Monterey Initiation, when Dad held me up to hear the fog horn; a tradition that continued for, until the horn sounded no more.
In the fog there’s magic. You just gotta look for it.
