Fog is a cold, yet embracing blanket; a welcome shroud that cloaks the world in mystery and intrigue. It narrows the aperture of vision, yet sharpens the focus of the soul.

Planting, prose and photography: creative field notes from the garden and beyond.
Fog is a cold, yet embracing blanket; a welcome shroud that cloaks the world in mystery and intrigue. It narrows the aperture of vision, yet sharpens the focus of the soul.
My Pa lived in Montara back in the 1980s. It was known as the ‘Fog Capital of the World’. The weather was pleasant in spring and summer, but when things got warmer farther inland, Montara was always foggy, damp and cool. Cars rusted like Graham crackers. The cypress, pines and blue gums loved it.
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