A Thick, but Narrow Fog

Posted on September 16, 2007 in Travels - So Cal

The sun shone down on us as we took our seat on the terrace of The Greeter along [[Pacific_Coast_Highway_(United_States)|Pacific Coast Highway]] in Laguna Beach. Volleyballs boinged, children sang, and cars hissed as they stopped, then growled as they started up again. As I stared out to a [[cormorant]] roost on a moundish rock beyond the end of the beach, a black pigeon did a walk along the wall and then onto our table. It slipped and flapped its wings. “Hey hey!” I cried out. The bird found its wings before it found its feet and flew back to the wall.

I took note of some low clouds off the coast, marking that after sundown they would be piling themselves in the crescent-shaped mouth of Laguna Creek. I misestimated the time. By the middle of my meal of mixed seafood on a skewer, the fog tumbled onto the beach. Waders and volleyball players put on their sweats, gathered their things, and walked towards their cars. Just before the check arrived, the low clouds looked like white cornrows passing transparently over the fleeing picnickers.

We paid our check and rushed off with the rest of them. A quarter of a mile up the canyon, as we passed the [[Pageant of the Masters]] grounds, the air cleared with no sign of becoming occluded. A couple of miles beyond that we passed through a grove of bay laurels and I dreamed of marinara sauce.