Fog can put a real crimp in your photographic plans. While, at times, it can add a certain je ne sais quoi, it can be trying as you wait for it to clear. I waited more than two hours yesterday for the fog to clear enough to see more than a hundred feet in front of me. Meanwhile, I could hear all kinds of flocks of geese flying by out in front of me. I just couldn't see them.
Meantime, the golden hour is slipping by. Yesterday, I missed it completely. This picture, taken last year, shows ground fog (which is a different animal). Fog can be so hard to predict. When I left the house yesterday, things were as clear as a bell. When I got half-way to the river, however, I turned a corner and, bam! I descended into a fog bank. By the time the weak sunlight burned the fog away, it was long past the golden hour.
After two hours of standing there waiting, I wondered if maybe I shouldn't just leave. Then I thought, No, I've waited this long; I'll just stick it out. Another half hour and it finally began to clear out.
I'm not sure what the dynamics are, but often the fog will migrate from near shore to the middle of the river where it will coalesce into columns which then suck the fog up into what are essentially low clouds. These will slowly drift off and dissipate. I have been there a couple times when it was incredibly beautiful. This photo is not one of those times.
Sometimes there is an advantage to the fog in that I am looking for the birds but they aren't looking for me. This immature Bald Eagle probably would never have landed in this nearby pine if he had seen me.
Fog. Depending on how thick it is, It can be beautiful or it can be bad news.
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