I love fog, it’s misty wispiness, how it is often chilly, always refreshing.  Driving through it makes me a little nervous sometimes, but almost all the time I’m soothed by drippy fog.  One of my favorite things about living where I do is that we have fog a little more often than other places, when the cold wind whips off the Lake in the warm parts of the year, and when the cool air from land whips over the warmer, steaming water in the cold parts of the year.  The fog here has so many shapes as it rolls in and out and across the city, or straight up into the air off the water.  Sometimes it hangs up on the top of the hill, and other times it sinks down as close to the Lake as it can.  Best of all, I love the sound of the fog alert from down in the harbor, a long horn that carries through the still air and across the water at regular intervals when it is foggy on the Lake.  Sometimes I will hear the fog alert running when it is sunny at my house, and at that is yet another  part of the magic of our crazy weather.

A favorite poem of Mr. SP and I:

BY CARL SANDBURG