Change of Seasons
Autumn is approaching: the fogs have begun. I went out today and saw a nice thick mist had made everything beyond about fifty feet disappear. Gollum would have approved.
It will burn off quickly today, though. The temps are supposed to go into the nineties.
Posted by Andrea Harris at September 15, 2003 08:21 AM
There's something wrong with me. For I love the fog.
I mean, I really love it.
Most people I know, they find it a nuisance, or creepy. Something mildly pretty at its best moments, but something they hope goes away as quickly as possible otherwise.
But me? I really love it. I wish I could wake up every morning with a thick, impenetrable fog surrounding my home. I wish every day I could walk through it, barefoot if possible, feeling the slick wet grass against my feet, with a lantern to guide me through it. I love the feel, the smell, the ambiance of it.
One of the most vivid memories of my life is the night, a few years ago, that I was driving from my then-home in Indianapolis to my late father-in-law's house in rural Hillsdale, Michigan. By the time I got there, around 12:30 am, a fog had fallen, so thick that I could barely see a hundred feet ahead of me on the road.
Now an odd thing about me is that, even though I'm nearsighted, I have unusually good nighttime vision. I see well in the dark. Extremely so. And even when it's so dark I can barely see, I have an acute sense of what's around me, and an acute sense of touch, and I can maneuver around comfortably in circumstances where others feel utterly lost and afraid.
This particular night, the fog was so thick, driving was very dangerous. Yet, I had to get to my wife's father's home, for I had nowhere else to go. Driving along the backroads of rural Michigan, I realized first that if I kept my car's highbeams on, I couldn't see a damned thing. So I turned off the highbeams and drove with the lowbeams.
After a few miles of this, it became obvious that, even driving fairly slowly, I still couldn't drive safely enough to be sure I wouldn't hit something. So I slowed down a little more, and turned off the headlights completely. I drove slowly--perhaps 20 mph--with nothing but the yellow running-lights. Headlights OFF, just those little yellow lights on the side to guide me. But I kept driving.
Still on the backroads, pretty much aware of where I was, driving along gravel roads. Seeing the tree limbs like shadows rise up ahead of me. Maybe down to 15mph. And then I decided to try a little experiment.
I turned off the running lights. Driving in a car, maybe 1:30 am, on a dirt road. With no lights--no lights whatsoever--on a very dark rural road. Trying to find my way to Rosemary's father's house.
Astonishingly, I found that I could see better, see the road more clearly, and drive with the most confidence, in the middle of the night in a pea-soup fog, with no lights at all.
About 20 minutes later I arrived at my father-in-law's home.
I love the fog.