Gulf Islands in Fog

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Ferry whistles wake me this morning as they navigate through the thick fog. The haunting sound is like that of a moving a fog horn being answered by another a little further on.

When we were out for our walk yesterday, I took this image of rolling fog in Active Pass. This morning we are still above it here at la casa de inspiracion but it is creeping towards the valley next to Heck Hill as it moves in off the water. We are only about a third of the way up the cliff side or 81 really large steps on the stairway to heaven but it is enough to escape the fog – for now.

I hope to have more images for us tomorrow of the fog in the trees. It was amazing.

Sprout question: What is your favourite experience of fog?

 

© 2010 Terrill Welch, All rights reserved.

Liberal usage granted with written permission. See “About” for details.

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Creative Potager – where imagination rules. Be inspired.

From Mayne Island, British Columbia, Canada

 

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16 thoughts on “Gulf Islands in Fog

  1. Wondrous capture of fog! More like rolling fog, it has to be amazing to watch, let alone photograph.

    While I lived at Easton Mt Retreat Center/community the fog would settle on the tops of the Mt, or steam up in between the two Mt’s, I use to say I live where clouds begin….
    Here is one of my favorite photographs of that experience, http://jeffstroud.redbubble.com/sets/31208/works/1900011-2-misty-mt-easton-ny, there are others in the collection too.

    Always a wonderful experience visiting with you here at Creative potager.

    I am Love, Jeff

    • Yes it was rolling fog Jeff. Still is. Our valley is now filled but at the sides of the house and behind the sun is still shining. The fog off the water is so much thicker than what steams off the earth from the rain. And it seems the sun is always trying to get through creating some dashing and inspiring moments. I loved the images you linked for us Jeff – very beautiful!

  2. Terrill – When I clicked on the email link that brought me to your post my verbal reaction was, “Ohhhhhhh, that’s lovely.”

    Sprout question: What is your fvorite experience of fog?

    A fog-draped early morning fishing for sturgeon on the banks of the Columbia River in Washington state. It was so foggy we had to tie a small bell to the end of each pole so we would know when we got a bite because we couldn’t see the poles. Thank you for evoking that good memory today.

    Jeff – I enjoyed following the link you provided, too.

    • Glad you liked the photo Laurie. Tomorrow’s post is likely to be even more fun for you because I am going to do a special post of just trees in the fog. I can just see you with a little bell on the end of your fishing rod… and that is thick fog to warrant such an approach!

      There was a couple of guys fishing yesterday out where we were walking. We were watching a sea lion traveling with their great gasps of air sending shivers down my spine each time it surface. All of a sudden it went down and didn’t come up. Then I could hear male voices out in the fog and gradually came to see the white of a boat like a floating ghost on the water.

  3. Beautiful image. Nice. Sets a mood.

    My favorite fog experience would be hiking to the top of a mountain in the northern BC interior in early morning with my friends and my tenor sax. Blowing improvised saxophone into the foggy mountain tops and playing back to the reverberating answers from the surrounding peaks.

    • Scott, welcome to Creative Potager. I have been above timberline in the Wolverine Range in the northern BC interior when I was sixteen. I can go there in my imagination and hear your tenor sax echoing off the old mountains. There were stacks of rocks only a few feet apart to the ridges so if the fog rolled in a person could find there way down again. What mountain range were you hiking Scott?

    • That’s a great coincidence 🙂 I was near Mackenzie, BC on Morfee Mountain. I guess you weren’t far from there. Perhaps you did hear that saxophone echoing away.

      • That is a great coincident Scott. I was a little farther north and to the east a bit. The Wolverine Range is a small subrange of the Swannell Ranges of the Omineca Mountains, located west of Williston Lake and south of Omineca Arm and is part of the Omineca Provincial Park now from the looks of the map I consulted. When I was there it was still part of my grandfather’s guiding territory. I went in at Mason Creek on horse back with my dad and my uncle hunting caribou. Well, they were hunting caribou I was on one of my first photo shoots. It was 1975. I was the only “woman” (I was just 16) allowed to go along because they knew I was tough enough… after piling green lumber and railroad ties with them all summer. I had a grand time.

  4. Dear Terrill,

    The fog is so mysterious and telling.

    one writing related quote that i like—and perhaps it applies to painting too?—is: “Writing is like driving at night in the fog. You can only see as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way.” ~ E. L. Doctorow

    I seldom begin a story unless I know how it ends, like a blurry knowledge that is a remembering as @waltpascoe says of creative impulse creative impulse , since so much of writing is an intuitive & serendipitous exploring for me (even in fiction—which no one actually believes when I tell them this), so it seems a bit like standing in fog sometimes.

    so, here is how my relation to fog, found its way in a short fiction piece i wrote some time back.

    Engram

    thanks for taking me back to the story, which feels like a memory, but that is what fog induces in me, and all foggy experiences end up being my favorite.

    gratitude,

    annie

    • Annie I enjoyed your Engram story immensely. What a perfect story to go with today and tomorrow’s post. Great piece on creative impulse by Walt Pascoe too! Thank you as always for sharing Annie.

      Annie’s story reminds me of today’s post by Peter on Living and Dying with Eyes Wide open “Seeing through Fog

  5. Wonderful pic.
    Fog has an feeling of mystery; things being hidden, glimpsed, and then slowly revealed. It filters light in a magical way that gives our imaginations flight.

    Fog as it lifts off the Stuart River during the sunrise on a crisp early fall morning outside our parents home remains one of my favorite experiences and the subject of many photos. Just a few weeks ago, I found myself in my gumboots and PJs with a jacket thrown over top, dashing out the door very early in the morning to stand on the riverbank, camera in hand, as the fog rose off the river filtering the morning sun against a backdrop of riotous autumn foliage.

    • Oh Sue I have no trouble at all imagining you on that river bank snapping away! I can even see through your viewfinder to the river and the fog and the popular leaves in their fall dresses. So good to have you drop in and would be great to see some of your photos.

      Dear readers, some of you that are new may not know that Sue is my sister, an artist and very handy with her camera as well. Our parents still live on the Stuart River in north central B.C. where they moved when I was eleven and where Sue came to from the hospital after she was born when I was twelve.

  6. Wonderful pictures again of an atomospheric, fog-enshrouded terrain, and always great to revisit “La casa de inspiracion.”

    My most memorable experience in the fog was a frightening one. Driving south on the Palisades Interstate Parkway, which runs on the cliffs overlooking the Hudson River and Manhattan from New Jersey about eight years ago, I was mortified to detect a car heading in the wrong direction. I swerved quickly to the right to avoid the oncoming car, and was not able to learn if this potentially disasterous traffic blunder resulted in an accident. Needless to say that’s one instance where I equated fog with life-threatening danger.

    Otherwise I think of Sir Arthur Conen Doyle’s THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES.

    • I couldn’t resist Sam. I tip-toed into your comment and put a live link for THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES. Your experience of the fog is truly a frightening one (long whistle and shaking my head). I hope you have found this post and the next post “Mayne Island Tree Spirits” restorative after this past experience.

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