On Little Cat Feet . . .

I love fog. And it's a good thing living so close to the ocean.

Living on an island means we can't really count on accurate weather forecasts. Many days we're told to expect sun and it rains, or to prepare for rain and it's sunny--all day. And it's very common to have dense clouds in our neighborhood and then travel only a 1/2 mile down the road and it's sunny!

But one thing we can count on is fog. LOTS of FOG. Mashed potato, pea soup, hard-to-see-your- hand-in-front-of-your-face, and yes, it comes on little cat feet fog. (Thanks, Carl S.)

Driving home from Bar Harbor at 9:30 PM means that I'm likely to encounter a fog bank on the way home. Even if it's clear in Bar Harbor. Even if I can sneak a quick peek at the stars or the bright yellow moon. Sometimes that moon is so bright, I have to resist the urge to lower the car's sun visor. WHAM! A great sheet of thick fog drops down in front of my car. As I creep through Somesville and then along the edge of Echo Lake, I become a bit disoriented. I can barely see the center line. Breathe. Breathe. Scan the road, watch for deer, scan again. Passing through Southwest Harbor even more slowly, I see only the diffuse lights of a few masts to my left. The boats of the harbor are mysteriously missing.

We had horrible thunderstorms last night (and more are predicted for tonight--yikes!). The non-stop lightning made for a sleepless, fitful night. This morning the power went out throughout all of Downeast Maine.

But as I stood at the window mid-morning and watched fingers of fog thread beautifully, effortlessly through the tall pines, leafy maples, and spent lilacs, I remembered why I love living here so much.

Gotta grab my flashlight and head off to bed! It's going to be another wild weather night here on the coast of Maine. I bet there will be some fog in the morning . . .