My Fog is a Cloud

Phrases that denote the heavy, depressing influence  of foggy days don’t resonate with me. I can understand how a grey fog hanging over a city for days could have that effect, though. With well over 200 days of arid sunshine in my location, and fog a rare occurrence,  a foggy day seems an intriguing invitation to view my surroundings in a different light. Literally.

It probably also matters that I don’t think of “my” fog as fog at all. I think of it as clouds. Walking through the clouds evokes quite a different mood from walking in a fog, don’t you think?

It’s not really true that my fog is a cloud, and yours isn’t. NOAA defines them the same, but I think of fog as something that forms in the low lying areas, and if it’s strong enough, it rises out of the depths and into the places we walk. Clouds however, originate in the skies, and if we’re lucky they will bow low enough to let us enter. That’s how it goes in my head, anyway.

So on the rare winter day when the clouds condescend to let me walk in them, I grab my camera and try to capture the feeling. Being a not so talented rookie photographer in challenging light, I’m afraid I am a long way from capturing the feeling, but I can’t help but try.

Goldenizing sun hits the trees.
Our own Sleepy Hollow tree. My only “dark and foggy night” photo.
And out from the mist…
I think he’s seeing me come out from the mist, and he’s not sure who I am.

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