Spring is settling in. The grass has decided to grow enough to mow. The maples and sassafrass trees are in bloom. The dogwood tree at the edge of the deck has burst into leaf — enough so that there is now some shade — under which we will soon start to put our potted plants, which have been inside all winter.
Spring also means that it’s time to repair the Black Point Beach walkway. Yesterday the lumberyard delivered us thirty ten foot two-by-sixes, which we cut to the official fifty-nine and one half inches of the walkway’s width. It was pleasant and warm, so pleasant that we were able to work in t-shirts.
Since the truck was full of cut boards, we decided that even though it was past tea-time, it must be time to go to the beach. At Black Point the weather was an entirely different animal. The east wind, coming off the cool Atlantic, was pushing strongly, carrying with it loads of fog. Those t-shirts were now barely adequate. We scurried to put the boards in a stack next to the start of the walk, and our trip to see the sea was brief. We’ll return another day, better dressed for the weather at the shore, which this time of year seems always to be way windier, and ten degrees or more colder than back at the shop.
Cold or hot, a trip to the beach is always worth it.
This day’s “worth it” was a fogbow. The big east wind pushed rolls of fog before it. The low western sun drove deep into the scudding vapor.
Its arc came and went as the patches of clear air and patches fog passed by.
A chance wave arrival moment during a panorama shot yielded this next image.
As I write this the next morning, all is fog.
Cold water plus warm air equals fog.
It must be spring.