Mysterious fogs.

I always find fogs rather mysterious. I got lost crossing a road in London one night, just crossing a road - I couldn't find the other side. I tried to hire a taxi to take me home. As soon as I gave directions the cabbie would leave - they wouldn't drive through Hampstead Heath in the fog. Finally I got a cab to stop, and jumped in .... and refused to get out.

The Oregon coast is WONDERFUL. But I get disappointed with photo taking as it's rather foggy. Go a mile or few inland and it's 10 to 30 degrees warmer and cloudless blue skies. Without the fog, the Redwoods wouldn't grow, and I adore the Redwoods. In one last visit to the coast before winter the fog drifted in for the Sunday morning. We found ourselves driving down mysterious roads in the mysterious fog, never knowing what we would find. Roads full of cows transporting themselves to and from milkings, and crows landing on fence posts. This is one such crow/raven/black bird.

All steamed up ... oops, I mean all fogged up ...

The weather patterns here tend to amaze me. A perfectly clear weekend, but this week has seen the valley socked in with an inversion layer - visibility down to 10 feet in some places.

It was below freezing this morning, venturing out into the heavily fogged countryside. Within 5 miles it turned to a mess of ice and white - a light misting of frost and snow on everything. Some brief patches were clear, but then came the beauty - some 20 miles away in Ashland, where the sun was shining in a clear blue sky and the curtain of fog left behind, the rising golden sun ahead. But all was white, and shimmering like a romantic picture book.

Then, retreating back into the fog again, I was hoping to get some great shots at the local wildlife refuge pond of the white surrounds, but the ground was clear. However, all was mystical, as not a thing was stirring.

I'll go back another day, when the sun is out.