When I was little I remember being really excited to be given a copy of this book called "Fog Magic" because the title had totally intrigued me when I saw it in the bookstore. It turns out I now can't remember anything about the plot (which says something...) except that I was disappointed that the story didn't live up to its name - because really "Fog Magic" is such a good name, and conjures such a lovely, and true, image.
I first became consciously aware of fog as both a phenonema of nature, and also as something real and alive with a personality of its own when I was living in the Bay Area. Berkeley is a place that is often visited by fog, in pretty much every season - although some months seem more prone to it than others. I remember how in October 2005 when I was living in my most favourite apartment ever on Hilgard I would often wake up to fog and would lie in bed for a few extra minutes some mornings just watching it and trying to get a feel for the day. Sometimes it would seem thick and insistent, as if it were there to stay; and other times it was breezy and light, and gave the impression of just passing through. The best part about fog in Berkeley though was that usually even if a day started off foggy, by mid-afternoon (sometimes earlier) the fog would "burn off" leaving sparkling sunshine in its wake. Fog was very much a morning (and middle of the night) presence there.
San Francisco - Berkeley's faithful neighbour across the Bay - is a city known for its fog, and twice I had really memorable fog experiences there, both times with L. The first time was 5 days before I was leaving Berkeley for good at the end of June 2006. We went to the Cheesecake Factory on the top floor of the Macy's at Union Square and around the same time that our cheesecake arrived, the fog started rolling in, heavy and full from the Bay. I was amazed at how quickly it moved; it seemed to me like time, in the sense that we can't stop it and that it just keeps coming. L. and I. watched the fog roll over and cover Union Square the same way time had rolled over the last four years, bringing an end to our time in Berkeley.
Fittingly, both fog and time kept rolling, all the way to a Monday night in May 2008 when L. and I again found ourselves in San Francisco- although now under very different circumstances. I didn't live in the Bay anymore, L. lived in the Richmond district of San Francisco, and we were both, on a relatively cold night in mid-May, on the verge of beginning summers that would, when I look back from the benefit of retrospect now, be really important for both of us. But on that night, our summers were not yet yours and all L. and I really knew was that we were cold, and tired, and wanted to drink tea and eat the left over lemon cake L.'s mom had made while talking about our afternoons (mine in particular had been quite eventful). But first, after making it to L.'s apt, we realized we had forgotten something in her car, and so, back out in the cool night we went, only to find the fog had decided to make an appearance. Standing at a street corner waiting to cross the street I have a distinct memory of the fog coming in quickly and thickly again, much like the June night nearly two years before. And though I really wanted to be warm and inside, I was also completely mesmerized by the fog and by how some things, like friendship and lemon cake and foggy San Francisco nights, can always be counted on.
San Francisco - Berkeley's faithful neighbour across the Bay - is a city known for its fog, and twice I had really memorable fog experiences there, both times with L. The first time was 5 days before I was leaving Berkeley for good at the end of June 2006. We went to the Cheesecake Factory on the top floor of the Macy's at Union Square and around the same time that our cheesecake arrived, the fog started rolling in, heavy and full from the Bay. I was amazed at how quickly it moved; it seemed to me like time, in the sense that we can't stop it and that it just keeps coming. L. and I. watched the fog roll over and cover Union Square the same way time had rolled over the last four years, bringing an end to our time in Berkeley.
Fittingly, both fog and time kept rolling, all the way to a Monday night in May 2008 when L. and I again found ourselves in San Francisco- although now under very different circumstances. I didn't live in the Bay anymore, L. lived in the Richmond district of San Francisco, and we were both, on a relatively cold night in mid-May, on the verge of beginning summers that would, when I look back from the benefit of retrospect now, be really important for both of us. But on that night, our summers were not yet yours and all L. and I really knew was that we were cold, and tired, and wanted to drink tea and eat the left over lemon cake L.'s mom had made while talking about our afternoons (mine in particular had been quite eventful). But first, after making it to L.'s apt, we realized we had forgotten something in her car, and so, back out in the cool night we went, only to find the fog had decided to make an appearance. Standing at a street corner waiting to cross the street I have a distinct memory of the fog coming in quickly and thickly again, much like the June night nearly two years before. And though I really wanted to be warm and inside, I was also completely mesmerized by the fog and by how some things, like friendship and lemon cake and foggy San Francisco nights, can always be counted on.
So given my somewhat emotional attachment to fog, I was delighted to discover that fog exists in Toronto too! While I have always loved Toronto as a city and have some really great memories of it from high school (and earlier) I seem to have forgotten a lot about it too. Until this fall, I really wouldn't have been able to do a good job describing falls in Toronto to you; and I certainly don't have any memories involving fog in Toronto. It must be that noticing things like fog just weren't on my radar until now. I guess fog didn't become something cool or noteworthy until I had first hand experience with it in the Bay. In any event, there have been some quite foggy days in Toronto this November and I have loved them! The best was just over two weeks ago when I took a cab home pretty late from L.'s (a different L. than the one above but no less fabulous) birthday party. Though it had already been looking a little foggy when I got to the party, when I left L.'s apt the city was covered in fog. It seemed to get foggier the farther north (and closer to my house) I got too. I couldn't help but exclaim to the taxi driver as he drove down my street just how foggy it was! When I stepped out of the car, my entire street was shrouded by fog - but a very friendly fog. Unlike the persistent and quick San Francisco fog, this fog seemed content to just languidly float above the houses and trees and hang out.
When I woke up the next morning the fog was gone and the sun was out, leaving me to only marvel at the fog magic from the night before and to be glad that though far away from the Bay Area, fog has found me here.
When I woke up the next morning the fog was gone and the sun was out, leaving me to only marvel at the fog magic from the night before and to be glad that though far away from the Bay Area, fog has found me here.
