Foggy drive

Last week when I drove to the hospital for my volunteer time I left the house at 7am and the fog was as thick as cotton batting. I couldn't see anything much other than the lights of the cars in both directions. Traffic was light and it was not a difficult drive, but it was interesting to see everything with a shroud of mist. I could make out the familiar buildings and landmarks, but anything further than the sides of the highway was indecipherable. It was sort of like driving in a tunnel.

After a few hours at the hospital I thought it would be clear flying on the way hone but the fog was still hovering and traffic was heavier so it was slower going. I don't think the skies cleared until nearly noon that day and it reminded me of the earlier days here when I was growing up and the fog seemed to be a more constant companion. All the open farm fields in the '50s and '60s made for the perfect conditions for that fog to crawl in off of the ocean in the early morning.

I think it was Ogden Nash that wrote about fog coming in "on little cat's feet" and sometimes that's just how it is, crawling across the field across from my house in the morning. But last week, it was more like a blanket over the entire east end. It happened to be the first day of spring and somehow it seemed appropriately seasonal.