I should have known–my student meteorologist this morning posted foggy and cool (while the sun was shining) in spite of the protests of his classmates. With a heat advisory posted on the weather app, everyone was expecting hot and sunny with record March temperatures, not a thick marine layer. But sure enough, by about 11:30 this morning, that pesky blanket of gray was wafting onto the playground. By the time I left school after 3, the coast was pretty much socked in the fog.
But the tides are low this week during my walking time, and walking on the beach is always better than walking around the neighborhood, so I pulled on my sweatshirt and headed into those very low clouds.
Dense fog is a lot like walking into a tunnel. Peripheral vision is limited, you can only see what is immediately before you. I found myself trusting the muscle memory of my feet and legs rather than depending on landmarks to find my way. In some ways it made distance fade away as I was forced to stay in the present rather than anticipate what lay ahead. Before I knew it miles passed.
Along the way back I noticed pelicans. Often they fly overhead, dipping and diving, surfing the waves. But today they were hanging out near the shore…just floating in the shallows. Sometimes lifting into flight just as I pulled my phone from my pocket to take a photo. Were they also experiencing the tunnel effect? Seeing the ocean differently through the thick gray damp of fog?
I enjoyed my tunnel view this afternoon, staying present and available to the shrouded beauty right in front of me. I soaked in the cool damp air, breathing in the sea and exhaling the worries about the world as my feet were treated to nature’s spa treatment–a cool salt water rinse. A perfect way to end my work day.
Thinking Through My Lens 