So… How Foggy Was It? February 18, 2008
Posted by littlebangtheory in Art and Nature.Tags: fog, fog and, more fog
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The last day or so has seen a dramatic change in the weather, from night-time temps in the single digits to today’s high of around 60 degrees F. This translates into a robust sublimation of our substantial snow-pack and considerable condensation from the overlying warm air, resulting in dense fogs in every hollow.
Now it happened that I needed to get down to Mount Holyoke today on a kind of a mercy run to assist Elder Progeny, so off I headed, thinking something like,”Gee, I think I’ll take the back roads through the farms and fields and take some photos in the fog.”
Right. Take route 47, Einstein, following the eastern bank of the Connecticut River. In the fog.
The very, very dense fog.
So, you ask, just how foggy was it?
Well, at one point I slammed on the brakes as a car appeared before me, apparently at a dead stop in the middle of the road.
It took me a full thirty seconds of hurling epithets and casting various aspersions to realize that there were two red traffic lights hovering in the pall, feebly whispering “stop” to anyone who happened by wearing a pair of night vision goggles.
After that, I drove with the windows down so I could hear if there were cars approaching.
Anyway, there were periods of white-knuckling interspersed with thinnings of the fog, and during the latter episodes I pulled over repeatedly to try to capture the fleeting scenes of roadways and farmlands and trees and tobacco sheds floating in the mists.
And, of course, as the rains came through to clear the air and the day came to its preordained conclusion, a dark and brooding sunset:
All in all, it was worth a little tension in the driver’s seat, and I got a hug from Elder P. to boot!
Little Bang Theory 
i love fog pics. especially when scenes emerge that challenge our sense of normalcy, like with your trees standing above the fog. very nice, and well-timed.
Thanks, Man 🙂
fog — isnt that like little cat feet or some poem
do they even teach that anymore?
I, an illiterate oaf, haven’t a clue. The only poem I know begins with, “There Once Was A Man From Nantucket…”
Ah, TCR and his tele-poet lens. I love your pics, I can almost feel the fog sitting on my skin and if I concentrate, I can almost smell the air.
The fog comes
on little cat feet.
It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.
Carl Sandburg
BTW, I know a man from Nantucket and there’s no truth to that
Tschuss!
Shit Gurrrl, you mean I got that kink in my neck trying to live a LIE???
Dang!
PS, the Sandburg’s cool, he ought to publish that or something.
Psst – I live five miles from the Carl Sandburg Home .. Connemara, in case ye e’er find yerself down this way, Cuz.
Cunning, that’s just…
Those pictures…
I’m speechless.
And Phy’ll tell you. That hardly ever happens.
Now that’s some fine, fabulous, foreboding fog.
Jen that’s too kind. And I’ve heard you “speechless” before on accounta teh microphone was off!
Randall, yes, Foreboding it was. Anything could have appeared before me, nothing would have surprised me. It reminded me of a Twilight Zone episode I saw as a kid.
And Cuz, I’m off to the Phyre as I type this!
Dude, living on the South shore of Long Island, dense fog is something I am quite used to. The dangers of such dense fog on densely traveled roads is a give. But man, I live for the days when I can stroll through the neighborhood with Chester (my dog) on these days. Awesome photos. Someday, I’ll be able to share some of mine with you. Nothing like a South shore fog when the salt air pushes in at the end of a summer day.
Interesting, isn’t it, how the deadly stuff is so alluring!
Yes please, post some fog pics. They’re generally powerful and dramatic, and in this medium, who could ask for more?
Yaeh, life in the Valley. I life about one hundred feet from the river and don’t we get different weather from anybody else? Well, yah! Love it here, wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.
Laurie, student or other?
Sorry, that was presumptuous, I’m sure.
Either way, yes, it’s a hard place to imagine leaving. From the CT river valley to the high peaks of the Northern Berkshires, there’s a lot here to be in love with, and I so am!