I love fog. When I was in San Francisco for the Fling, despite the heat, there was always fog out on the bay, around Alcatraz and shrouding the Golden Gate Bridge. On our way back to the hotel on the bus one day, as we were heading toward the Golden Gate, we could see fog moving across the hills beside the highway like a living thing, just pouring quickly down the hillside toward us, like a liquid, then magically disappearing.
We often get fog in this area too, right at the height of summer like now. (We get plenty at other times too.) Real pea soup-type fog. Sometimes it's only up here on the plateau, and when we go down into the valley, it turns into clouds above us. Or occasionally, it will appear only down in the valley, and we'll be in brilliant sunshine. There's a spot on Route 410, where you can look out over the valley, and it looks like a lake of fog.
I haven't left the house yet this morning. Fog is all around us, so I took some photos of it (from indoors, still in my nightdress - oh, there's a lovely image). We're planning to go out later to the farmer's market in Puyallup. It'll be interesting to see where else the fog is.
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Through a back window |
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Through a back window into a neighbor's yard. The leaves of his maple tree are already turning from summer drought stress. |
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Across the street, through a front window. The dark-leafed tree at the bottom is my Forest Pansy Redbud. |
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Across the street |