Foggy days

Our trip on the Polar Express is today, and because we want to leave directly from Richard's work we all had to get up before the sun this morning to bring him to work. The alternative of leaving his car in the parking lot is just not acceptable. That parking lot is so attractive to car thieves - because of its size I suspect - that the police routinely leave "bait cars" to catch them.

One of the benefits of getting up this early, especially when I don't actually have to be awake enough to drive yet, is I get to see things that I wouldn't get to see otherwise. Today, the visual treat was fog. Yes, fog. In Phoenix, AZ. It happens, but given how dry the area usually is it's fairly rare. On top of that it burns off quickly, so unless you're out and about early you miss it entirely.

I love fog. For me it's always had a magical quality. I remember waiting for the bus on foggy mornings as a kid. The visual memory is so strong I can actually see the road I lived on disappearing into the fog in both directions. It made such an impression on me I wrote a rather long poem about it. Now that I think about it, that poem is probably part of the reason why the visual memory is so strong.

I also have vivid memories of driving through the Appalachian Mountains with a friend in the middle of the night, in fog so think we were literally hanging out of the open doors to try and keep the lines painted on the road in sight. It wasn't safe to try to pull over since we couldn't see what we would be pulling into, so we crept over the mountains at a speed we probably could have beaten by walking. We didn't have to be anyplace at any particular time, so we just enjoyed the experience, and drove very carefully.

The only time I can remember not enjoying fog was driving through Pennsylvania roads loaded with deer. That's a little intimidating in the fog, especially when you know people who have totaled cars in deer encounters.

Sadly, our foggy morning has burned off already. Until next time.