Mary Ann Hayes

I love fall. The colors of the leaves, the crisp air, boots and sweaters. Everything about it, except for the fog. Waking up in the mornings to soupy gray ghosts hugging the windows is less than a cheerful way to start the day.  Not being able to see two feet out the door is not a poster child for good morning sunshine.

Fog travels, as we all know. It moves along the ground and wraps itself around trees and hillsides, cars and homes, hiding everything behind it’s gray doors. If you open a window on one of these foggy mornings, it will enter your head. That’s right, your head. Fog travels everywhere, which is why none of us can even think on foggy mornings. It’s nearly impossible to think when your head is in, and/or full of fog. And if it doesn’t burn off by noon, it’s nap time; at least for me anyway. I’m not kidding. The grayness swallows me up and replaces any energy I may possibly have had with extreme fatigue. There is a real danger of sleeping right on through till spring if there’s enough fog in the fall.

I’ve come to a greater understanding of bears and the whole hibernation thing. I get it. After all, why should we have to face the fog, struggling to act conscious and intelligent while what we really need to do is get fat and sleep till the sun shines again? Makes perfect sense to me.

I’ve noticed that it is nearly impossible to make decisions on foggy days. Yes and no sound exactly the same as does in and out or up and down. Also, fog causes a huge increase in appetite. Now, that’s not just me speaking. Everyone gets hungry in the fog. Grocers stock their shelves with a huge variety of comfort foods for fog days. It’s a proven fact that people will buy a lot more food than usual if a Monday is a foggy day. They will buy enough to last the whole week just in case it’s foggy all week. That way they don’t have to go out in it.  So much for they gym.

Recently, I tried out a pair of fog glasses. They’re like sunglasses, only for the fog. The color of the lenses is an yellow orange, the idea being that looking through these sunshine lenses will brighten everything up, make us feel better and coerce the return of our absent energy. They don’t work. I became physically ill wearing them, as if I were on a top, spinning out of control. Don’t be sucked in by the infomercial if you see it. It’s best to simply close your eyes at the first fog sighting and check in later when the sun is out. Even if that means months from now.

I hear there is a bill before congress to allow for fog leave from jobs, kind of like family leave when a baby is born. I hope it passes. Everyone of us in the Pacific Northwest could use it. It’s only fair. After all, it’s not our fault we have all this fog, nor is it our fault that it affects us the way it does. Those people on Capital Hill should try and get some work done in the fog. Oh, that’s right. They don’t get any done anyway!

Take advantage of every clear day we have, boys and girls! The ghostly fingers of fog are upon us!

Later,

Mary Ann