If there's one prevailing weather condition we have in our area, it's fog. Mist. Vapor. Haze. Whatever you want to call it, it's here except in the summer when it's too warm.
This fog can be treacherous in the winter, when it freezes and forms a micro-layer of ice on everything. We have a friend whose vehicle slid off the road in such conditions, and he has a permanently injured back from the accident.
And yet, in its softer moods, the fog can be beautiful. The other evening, as Don and I took Darcy for his walk, the mist ebbed and flowed around us. There was just a hint of pastel color in the western sky. Sometimes the fog completely enveloped us, then it would drain away. Every minute, the landscaped seemed to change.
In fact, it could change almost second by second. It was like the fog was a living, breathing thing, and we were right there in the midst of it.
It was one of those walks where even when we had our backs to the western sky, we kept turning around to watch the changing conditions.
A soft evening indeed.
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