Marine Fog
I like quiet nights like these, when the coastal fog surprises you by rolling in much earlier than expected -- around 6:00pm, right after I've left work for the day -- and it ever-so-discreetly settles into the suburbs where I live, tucking itself in around the rooftops of houses, sometimes gracefully touching down onto the grass like a low-flying cloud.
Some people like the way the rain sounds, trickling down the sides of their home, as they fall asleep. I look forward to basking in the cool dampness of the almost-clean So Cal coastal air, breathing in the cold weight of the atmosphere, not only out of necessity -- but because I like it.
Around here, I think marine layer is to blame for early morning car accidents during rush hour, and perhaps even ones in the evening when it rolls in so early on and so unexpectedly, but if you're like me...and you're standing in the your driveway and busy fumbling to pick up your things from the car in the untimely darkness of premature winter...just pause...and then listen. The massive explosion of quiet is deafening.
I did that tonight, just all of a sudden for some reason, I'd stopped what I was doing...and I remember, I cocked my head to one side like my dog would when she's listening intently for something. I can't explain it; I know I live in the suburbs, and it's not quite as noisy as a metropolitan area, but the abrupt quiet in the dense fog? That was amazing.
Some people like the way the rain sounds, trickling down the sides of their home, as they fall asleep. I look forward to basking in the cool dampness of the almost-clean So Cal coastal air, breathing in the cold weight of the atmosphere, not only out of necessity -- but because I like it.
Around here, I think marine layer is to blame for early morning car accidents during rush hour, and perhaps even ones in the evening when it rolls in so early on and so unexpectedly, but if you're like me...and you're standing in the your driveway and busy fumbling to pick up your things from the car in the untimely darkness of premature winter...just pause...and then listen. The massive explosion of quiet is deafening.
I did that tonight, just all of a sudden for some reason, I'd stopped what I was doing...and I remember, I cocked my head to one side like my dog would when she's listening intently for something. I can't explain it; I know I live in the suburbs, and it's not quite as noisy as a metropolitan area, but the abrupt quiet in the dense fog? That was amazing.