Fog Steals the Show
As my family and I were out and about doing some errands on the evening of July 2, 2011, we noticed that the late afternoon sky was setting up nicely for a possible sunset delight over Rockland Harbor.
High, wispy clouds stretched out across the blue firmament, displaying a delicate texture that seemed perfect for hosting splashes of deep, evening color upon their faces. Given the hopeful scene, we decided to ride over to Rockland Breakwater and wait for sundown’s show.
All the while, an ominous fogbank was holding court on West Penobscot Bay, obscuring the islands to the east and hovering over Owls Head to the southeast.
The fog’s puffy, gray countenance was creating an air of uncertainty in the sky, but its appetite for devouring clear visibility seemed momentarily satisfied as it stood-off the harbor.
We didn’t get more than a quarter-mile out the breakwater before the towering wall of vapor lurched forward once again from the south, rolling steadily in over the last vestiges of sparkling water.
The ever-advancing fog showed no restraint for gobbling up clear skies and was seemingly on the offensive in seeking a showdown with the sun to see who would rule during the moment of twilight.
Such action, unfolding right before our eyes, suddenly took center stage. Would the sun be able to dip below the horizon before the menacing fogbank could obscure its splendor from reigning in the sky?
The race was on!
In truce-like fashion, just before the fog blotted out the entire sky, it stopped its relentless advance, as if to kindly permit the great luminary a chance to bid the day adieu in proper fashion.
With a misty curtain of vapor draped around it, the sun took its final bow, but in the end, the day-star was suddenly not the focus. Laden heavy with moisture, the fogbank first absorbed the sun’s radiance and served as an unlikely canvas for color to reflect and dance upon its somber face.
The fog’s gray countenance seemed to smile in a playful manner as the atmosphere basked in a moment of royal grandeur.
Though this gorgeous scene was fleeting, we walked back to our vehicle marveling at how the fog, which is not normally known for its cheery disposition, ended up stealing the show at sundown. Who would have thought!
I have a friend who, with her husband, has just retired to a home they purchased two years ago, which is at the cliff’s edge overlooking the Pacific in the “blue hole” of Sequim, WA. She sends photo shows of their glorious surroundings; Dungeness Spit is just below and Mount Rainier in the background. Between the two of you, I’ve got the Pacific and the Atlantic! Sometimes I just cannot believe what and whom lighthouses have brought to me.
Your images and text are a constant delight and pleasure. Thanks so much! Happy Independence Day!
As usual, great shows brought on by Mother Nature. Thanks for the photos and Happy Fourth.
Bob,
Isn’t it wonderful the way God through nature can combine the various elements such as fog and the sun’s rays to exhibit the beauties of our world.It also takes a person like yourself to be aware of such events and to capture them in film and write about them in such excellent prose.
Dave
Man has his fireworks. Nature has the sunrise and sunset. While I like an occasional fireworks display – for me nothing rivals the beauty of the sun rising or setting along the shore.
As always thanks for sharing.
Rachel was out sailing with her friend’s family that evening and told me about the amazing sunset. Thanks for posting these pics. Now I can see what she saw!
Love the sunset fog….my husband and I visited the Breakwater light a few days ago, along with 40 other New England lighthouses (and some with Jeremy!)…we’re back home in Nova Scotia after a very memorable coastal trip in Maine and NH!