Inherit the Fog

fog bank
I live in a house of sand and fog. Like fog the days are ethereal, fluorescent, quick changing. And gritty. Always gritty intrusions into a smoothly planned day.

Yellow sunlight attempts to reveal blue sky but it does not last. A crisp white boat slices through the blue water leaving a low white scar. And just beyond is the nemesis fog. Promising to dim what the sun has worked so hard to bring forth. It closes the final curtain on our daylight.

So I wait. And I make a mental note to try to describe all this with words. Try to change fog into words. Paint a picture of a day by the bay with words.

Then, suddenly, the moodiness lifts and it clears to Kodachrome.

2 comments… add one
  • Yes, that is a great description of living on this stretch of the Pacific coast, as well as living in general. How our moods come and go, but can feel so potent and final in the moment.

    Thanks for the poetic reminder to watch, wait, and make art of it all!

  • We are a lucky bunch Deanna – being here is so inspirational!

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