Glowing in the Dark

Today I travelled across the Narrows. I enjoy this on any day, but on some days more than most. This was one of those days. 'In town,' the weather was clear but cold. A few wispy clouds. Crisp autumn Sunday in Western Washington.


I rounded the sweeping corner as I approached the bridge and was caught off guard by an unexpected bank of fog. No one had said the 'F' word on the weather report this morning.

This was not a light fog. You know the sexy, misty kind where shapes and colors take on a make-believe, watercolor painting type quality. Kind of impressionistic.

This was a solid wall of fog. This fog glowed with the sun somewhere behind it. It was exciting and impressive. Especially considering that not one Seattle area weatherologist seemed to have a clue it was coming.

I loved heading straight into it. It felt daring. Halfway across the bridge I looked behind me and couldn't see the end I'd just crossed. I looked ahead and couldn't see the end I was about to cross. It was like the car was travelling across a floating section of magnificent, magical bridge. I wish I'd been standing at the rail instead of driving across. But even so, it was still amazing and energizing.

I love weather. Weather! Not lack of weather, mind you. As in boring, plain, clear-skied, nothing to look at kind of weather. Sorry, this is nothing personal. I completely respect any type of weather you might prefer. But for me? I'm so thankful for weather to be watched.

PS: I stand corrected. Apparently fog was mentioned in some news cast this morning and I missed it.