Fog at the Slough

To see the fog lift, you've got to start in the fog.

It’s easy to head out to the Slough when the sun is shining. The payoff is guaranteed, but it’s predictable and thus a little boring.

It’s not so easy when I look out the window and see the world socked in with fog, as it often is during the fall and winter around here. (I’ll leave it to my favorite weatherman Cliff Mass to explain more, either in his great book or his blog.)

But one thing I’ve learned is that if you want to see the fog lift, you’ve got to start in the fog. So I often drag my butt out the door when it’s cool and misty, hoping that I’ll get to see the mystery of fog transforming before my eyes.

The photos here were taken over the last two years out at Fobes-Ebey Slough Dike Road Trail (it’s on my interactive map of the area, if you’re interested). Looking at the metadata, I see most of these shots were taken between 8 and 9 in the morning in October and November, if that helps your timing. I think they speak more clearly than my words.

---

Sometimes the fog is the lightest skiff on top of the water.

More often the fog is a smothering blanket, pulling the world in close.

When the fog breaks up and lifts, it’s magic.

Now that spring is upon us, I’m seeing these mountains a little more. That’s Whitehorse on the left, Three Fingers on the right, in case you’re curious. Both are eminently climbable.