Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Winter River of Fog

This time of year we enjoy an interesting view from our front porch most mornings.

A river of fog flows east past our home from the Coloma valley, visits a while in the vicinity of Chili Bar, and then retreats back to the lower elevation to settle in until an afternoon sun drives it away for the day.
Here the Coloma valley is covered in fog. It almost looks like a misty lake in the distance.
Hard to see in this shot, but the full moon was still hanging around in our blue sky, yet the folks in Coloma were socked in and wouldn't have been able to enjoy it.
Fog by Carl Sandburg

The fog comes on
little cat feet.

It sits looking over harbor and city on silent haunches
and then moves on.
The fog is creeping up the river, bringing a chill and a mystery with it.
Winter Haiku by Sunil Uniyal

fog in the valley -
trees and mountains recede
then vanish

the dawn's draped in fog,
the pheasant forgets to sing -
where are you, O sun?

the sun-god at last
felling fog with his arrows -
trees and hills appear.
Here you can barely see the river in the lower left.
The Fog by Aleksandra Lachut

I like the fog
It's soft and cool,
It hides everything
On the way to school.
I can't see a house
I can't see a tree,
Because the fog
Is playing with me.

The sun comes out
The fog goes away,
but it shall be back
Another day.
Fog by Edwina Reizer
Fog, settling in the air all around.
Fog covering the earth like a blanket on the ground.
Where did you come from?
Why are you here?
You feel so misty,
The air's unclear.

Fog, I wait patiently and use my eyes.
Fog, you're lifting now and I can see the skies.
Everything looks like it did before.
No more mist
the ground's been kissed
by fog.
The Breathing by Denise Levertov

An absolute
patience.
Trees stand
up to their knees in
fog. The fog
slowly flows
uphill.
White cobwebs, the grass
leaning where deer
have looked for apples.
The woods
from brook to where
the top of the hill looks
over the fog, send up
not one bird.
So absolute, it is,
no other than
happiness itself, a breathing
too quiet to hear.
Let the Fog Roll In by Ben Paynter

Let the fog roll in I say
From the mountains, and no tongue
Has told a lie it didn't like
Nor sang a song it hasn't sung.

Let the fog roll in I say
I'd rather have it here than there
Atop that mountain with the snow.
Let the roll in I say
The sun has grown a boring tone
The streetlights make the shadows dance
And make the streets seem less alone.
Sometimes it comes in dense. Is there a river down there somewhere?
Sometimes it comes in wispy, showing little bits of river.
Sometimes it floats and sinks and rises again.
But at last it flows upward for the last time, returning downstream.
Back again to the Coloma valley, and then down further to the large Central Valley from where it came.
Goodbye fog.

6 comments:

  1. Neat post, Tina - I rather enjoy fog here in the foothills - unless I have to drive in it.
    I love all your photos.

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  2. SO BEAUTIFUL! i love living up here so much, the first time i headed down to folsom a couple weeks ago i was SHOCKED by the fog and cold. what an incredible view you have; these photos are absolutely amazing and i love the poetry you chose. this was such a lovely post to read with my coffee!

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  3. Wonderful post Tina. That is amazing the way the fog rolls in and out. I love your photo tour...fascinating.

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  4. great pictures tina - ahhh memories of northern calif and of the central valley. we were shocked when we moved from michigan to stockton - the tulle fog was a big surprise.

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  5. Beautiful post! I love the fog when it comes up from the river canyon and slowly winds through the foothills around us.
    It's alive and moving. It comes and goes silently.
    It's a wonderful and lovely thing as long as I don't have to drive in it.

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  6. wow what a truely beautiful area you live in, to wake up to those views every morning must make you spirit feel alive and so very free, nature is a wonderful thing, dee x

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