architecture

The fog made me a bit more open to taking in the scenary

Despite my slight love of fog, I almost titled this bit “how the fog did us in.” Then I thought about it. The fog didn’t do us in necessarily. It may have actually helped see the light.

 
Let me backtrack.
I like fog for its eerie texture and composure. I hated fog when I lived in San Francisco at the top of a hill.  It was cool for a day or two -maybe even a week-then I tired of it and longed for sun.  But otherwise I tend to like fog to drive through and feel a bit haunted.   And so that is how I came to spend a day in Hong Kong.

 

The day started off overcast with a grave amount of fog settled onto the mountain top outside our window.  Immediately upon wakening one must question how the day will go.  Our plan was to spend the day touring an area called Lantau that would include us taking a small bus, a small boat, four large buses and a ferry.  Here, in Hong Hong, you surely utilze many types of transport within any given 24 hours. I’m totally game for that fog or no fog.

 

After a few bus rides, we first visited a small village on stilts. Apparently, it is the home of where shrimp paste is made and that scared me.  As someone with a severe shellfish allergy, shrimp paste gives me the heebie jeebies as it can innocuously be found in so many foods. The town was great to walk through, even while I tightly held onto my epipen. As we toured the village the fog kept coming in closer and closer.  Despite the fog, we were able to catch glimpses of a few white/pink tail dolphins.  That thrilled my son to no end. How glorious nature can be. Although, I must admit, I wondered if the dolphins had been paid off by the boat driver. Am I a jaded New Yorker sometimes? Absolutely.


We then went to the monastery and heard amazing sounds of prayer. The emphasis on heard because little by little the fog enveloped us nearly completely.   You had to rely on your other senses and have a mindset that adventure happens in both the sun and in the fog. A bit contrary to expectations, the fog made everyone a bit more open to taking in the scenary. I mean, we fought with all our might and senses to take in the scene. Outlines of figures meant much to us.


And what we caught in the fog was a bit magical. Of course, I would have appreciated full blazing sun. However, I came to rather enjoy the foggy landscape as it allowed my mind to flourish and be creative.

I felt an odd sense of being protected.

11 replies »

  1. I couldn’t help but think of this lovely poem when I read your blog and your title. I hope you don’t mind. I know Robert Frost has a short poem also but this one really captures a haunting/ancient mood for me that I see in some of your pics.
    THE FOG’ by F.R. McCreary.
    Slowly the fog,
    Hunched-shouldered with a grey face,
    Arms wide, advances
    Finger-tips touching the way
    Past dark houses
    And dark gardens of roses.
    Up the short street from the harbor,
    Slowly the fog,
    Seeking, seeking;
    Arms wide, shoulders hunched,
    Searching, searching
    Out through the streets to the fields,
    Slowly the fog-
    A blind man hunting the moon.

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