Beat a Go Go

The mourning doves were heard cooing, and the dry skeletons of autumn's leaves crunched under the paws of foraging squirrels. I convinced our visiting fog to let me photograph her. She was shy at first, but beautiful creatures cannot resist being adored. When I eventually got her to peel off the last of her wispy veils, I was treated to a dewy, sunkissed morning. If she returns, perhaps I'll offer her a permanent room in the Columbary.

A fog is an ephemeral creature—milky as a jellyfish, soft as a moth, and silent as the wings of a thousand owls. They arrive when their mood suits them, and eventually dissipate back to their secret hiding places. There are many different kinds of fogs, and and they sport a variety of colors. Some are as delicate as the whorling bones of the inner ear, and others are as resilient as Thanksgiving Jell-o in January. I don't believe anyone has attempted to catalog them, and I am no fogologist. But I will share some of my observations with you, if you wish.

Night fogs are the most feared, and for good reason. Tales about the supernatural are replete with them. Of the fogs, night fogs are the most unsettling. They tend to be contrary at best, and insidiously evil at worst. They aren't the most colorful fogs, so they compensate by forming a symbiotic relationship with colorful characters. Night fogs enjoy the company of ghosts, murderers, or even demonic dogs. Their mysterious nature beckons most to the world-weary poet or the subtle adventurer. Say what you will about them, night fogs happen to be excellent storytellers.

Cold fogs generally arrive on sunless afternoons. They have wet noses, and often like to give travellers one as well. Cold fogs are durable, and can survive a freezing rain that would shred most other fogs. They are blue and morose and gravitate toward the lovelorn and the griefstricken. They also have a fondness for following under-dressed adolescents home from middle school.

Sea fogs are the most dangerous of the species, even more so than night fogs. Most of the time they congregate in the desolate regions of the oceans, in secret unmapped areas where sailors have never been found. An interesting fact about sea fogs is that they can't swim, which is fine by them because they walk on water like people walk on land. They are generally greenish in hue, but other colors have been spotted. A unique red variety of sea fog seems to have taken up permanent residence around the Flying Dutchman's ship. In the Bermuda Triangle, some seafarers lucky to have escaped with their lives reported seeing strange multi-colored lights in the fog. Other sea fogs of the non-colored variety tend to be solitary creatures, and seem to be attracted to lighthouses.

The most famous fog is, of course, the London Fog. Truly, has anyone ever heard of the New York Fog, or the Berlin Fog, or the Prague Fog? Certainly not! She is a stately old dame and has become something of a genius loci to the city. And while her closest cousins have a thing for moors, London Fog is quite happy to stay with the Londoners. She would never stray too far from her namesake city, which is a good thing. You see, if she ever travelled too far, she might not remember how to return. She is a very old fog, the poor dear, and is as thick as pea soup.

Morning fogs are the sweetest of all the fogs, and may draw some of their inspiration from the misty sunlight of waking dreams. They are dewy, and crisp smelling, like fresh linen. Their colors are white or sunlit-yellowish. They are hazy and delicate, and are most often seen in the spring or summer months.

Other notable fogs or related are the Velvet Fog, Phileas Fogg, the Awful Dynne, and Purple Haze.