One Misty, Moisty Morning...
As I peeked out my window at 3:55 am, I was instantly reminded of the nursery rhyme:
"One misty, moisty morning, when cloudy was the weather,
I chanced to meet an old man, dressed all in leather."
Thick fog blanketed my backyard, bestowing it with a new mysterious look. I wouldn't have been at all surprised to meet an old man in leather; in this weather, anything could happen.
When I stepped out the door, I found that the fog wasn't just moist, it was wet! Usually the ground is damp after a fog, but today it was soaking. I got my bike from the shed and began to bike, but before I'd gone a block, my glasses were so wet that I couldn't see through them. I perched them at the tip of my nose, librarian-style, and looked over them for the rest of the ride. (Probably this was illegal, since I have to wear corrective lenses to drive; I assume this would apply to bike-riding as well. Thankfully there was no-one on the road to run into.)
In addition to the wetness, the density of the fog took me by surprise. Hollister Avenue, the main road in my commute, is straight with high visibility; on a normal sunshiny day, you can see down the road at least a mile. This morning, the visibility was down to about 1/16th of a mile: once I had passed one streetlight, I could barely see the fuzzy glow for the next one. It was as if I was riding through a misty tunnel with all the residences and businesses temporarily removed.
However, Starbucks was still there. Throughout my early morning shift, I watched the fog thin gradually and disperse. When I rode home, the sky was blue again, and the shrubs and cement had started to dry. However, I continued to hear the foghorns over the ocean through the rest of the day.
From the Archives: Sept. 26th
"One misty, moisty morning, when cloudy was the weather,
I chanced to meet an old man, dressed all in leather."
Thick fog blanketed my backyard, bestowing it with a new mysterious look. I wouldn't have been at all surprised to meet an old man in leather; in this weather, anything could happen.
When I stepped out the door, I found that the fog wasn't just moist, it was wet! Usually the ground is damp after a fog, but today it was soaking. I got my bike from the shed and began to bike, but before I'd gone a block, my glasses were so wet that I couldn't see through them. I perched them at the tip of my nose, librarian-style, and looked over them for the rest of the ride. (Probably this was illegal, since I have to wear corrective lenses to drive; I assume this would apply to bike-riding as well. Thankfully there was no-one on the road to run into.)
In addition to the wetness, the density of the fog took me by surprise. Hollister Avenue, the main road in my commute, is straight with high visibility; on a normal sunshiny day, you can see down the road at least a mile. This morning, the visibility was down to about 1/16th of a mile: once I had passed one streetlight, I could barely see the fuzzy glow for the next one. It was as if I was riding through a misty tunnel with all the residences and businesses temporarily removed.
However, Starbucks was still there. Throughout my early morning shift, I watched the fog thin gradually and disperse. When I rode home, the sky was blue again, and the shrubs and cement had started to dry. However, I continued to hear the foghorns over the ocean through the rest of the day.
From the Archives: Sept. 26th
posted by Adelle at
3:17 PM
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