Sometimes, I open one eye to take an early morning reading on the weather and then go back to sleep. On Monday, I saw the fog and was up, dressed and out of the house in three minutes flat. I had been waiting for this.
It was the perfect foggy day. "A Might Soupy" as they say down east. Not "Thick-a-fog" or even worse, "Dungeon Thick-a-fog", just a might soupy. The sun was burning things off fast and I had to be quick to catch the pictures I have been wanting to try for weeks.
No trip to Maine is complete without getting to play in the fog. Muffled echos make trying to navigate inside a cloud somewhat disorienting and a little challenging if you aren't 100% sure of your bearings. This crew rowed a skiff from their sailboat anchored-out in the harbour. They tip-toed in on silent cat feet, appearing out of the mist like phantoms.
Everything was wet. Wet--like in drenched, sopping, dripping.
Fairy nests and spider webs were everywhere.
As the sun got stronger and the mist got thinner, the soft, buttery colours and blurred edges of the landscape got even more beautiful.
Yesterday and today have been "thick" and "dungeon thick-a-fog" right up to the front deck of the buildings. We can't see the water at all. Fog horns wailing off-shore and the Bald Eagles screeching in frustration at not being able to spot fish from their tree-top perch are the only entertainment right now. My quilt is progressing nicely, thank you. I'm inside, keeping warm and dry, and loving every aspect of summer in Maine.