Tag: fog

February 28

Today has been my birthday. It was lovely.

We spent it at the beach, amidst the sand and water and birds and fish and boatloads and boatloads of fog. We made sand mandalas and a labyrinth (and walked it), threw a boomerang-y frisbee, – no, it wasn’t designed to work that way, but it did today! – walked a ton on the beach, ate a lovely Paleo brunch and lovely Paleo cupcakes, opened pen presents, drank yummy teas, played some French Monopoly and some Bop-It Extreme, made sand candles, and had a generally lovely, joyful time just being together. I also played with my jump rope (still haven’t found the right length) and practiced double-unders for a bit, and talked on the phone to a few select people.

And I am extremely grateful for my life, and I am especially grateful for what I have been able to do in it lately. It had been a lot these past few years, and even these past several months – stress after stress after stress – and yet I have made it through all of them, better than ever I was before them.

Gratitude, World, Universe, God.

Happy love unto all of us, as we travel this next journey around the sun.

Post-a-day 2021

^Man! Almost missed it!

Beach fog

My mom and I went for a walk on the beach this afternoon/evening, as a way of closing out the daytime for today. Although bidding farewell-until-the-morrow to a sun that hasn’t been technically visible all day is a bit odd, it didn’t stop us.

The fog, however, almost did.

I had measured distances to various things yesterday, and we found today that a certain spot that was .19 miles away, straight up the beach, was not visible. That set the visibility at about .18 miles this evening.

It was almost spooky, but that it didn’t feel spooky; it just looked it.

See how the world just seems to end? The typically seemingly infinite beach is short; it is blocked by fog.

An unexpected result of this walk on the beach, however, came after about twenty minutes of walking.

I turned to my mom, and, seeing her hair soaked, asked her what on Earth she had done – it looked like she’d been splashed by a wave. Seeing as how she’d been seeking and picking up seashells, it wouldn’t have surprised me if she had been splashed by a wave while picking up something. However, she replied that she hadn’t done that, hadn’t had that happen. So, what was the deal, then? Why was her hair soaked?

That’s how thick and dense this fog was – it was clinging to her hair, soaking it. I asked if mine was the same, and she said it was.

We took a picture to document the absurdity of our walk on a not-rainy day at the beach. By the time we were walking home, we were wiping soaking wet eyebrows and eyelashes, too.

Post-a-day 2021

^Whoo! Just barely!