Himalountain

This morning I looked out the window to discover that a blanket of fog had descended on the coast. With visibility at about half a city block, I decided to hold off going to work for a while and take a walk.

I love fog. It reminds me of home and it normally accompanies my favorite temperature ranges. The smell of fog is amazing. It’s a bit of a different experience to see it filling a SoCal beach community. Rather than being a sleepy quirky part of the changing of the seasons, it takes on an almost sinister feel.

Houses designed for warm weather and to maximize the view of the ocean stand out in stark contrast to their hazy neighbors. Tall palm trees fade into the ether.

I walked down to the beach, which was the eeriest of all: I could hear the waves but I could not see or smell the ocean. It was like Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind where someone was erasing my sensory experiences.

As I walked home, I smelled wood smoke drifting out of houses of the lucky few around here who have fireplaces. Today, I wish I could curl up in a fleece with a cup of cocoa and let the fog mute out the rest of the world. Instead I better get ready for work.

Um, I think you can turn off your sprinklers: