Foggy Morning Dreams

| 9/20/2013 2:56:00 PM

Pam TinninSeptember arrived as hot as August, but yesterday we woke to heavy fog. It clung to the valley below us until mid-morning and brought with it a welcome break in the heat. Although they aren't the best for the tomatoes, I love foggy mornings. In fact, when I married into the family in 1981 and moved to the farm, after my first heavy morning fog, I had a dream that has returned to me more than once, even when we lived for a winter in the high desert country of eastern Oregon.

Foggy Morning in the Mountains

The view from our "upper end" on a foggy morning. On a clear day we can see Mt. Tamalpais, just north of San Francisco.

In the dream I awaken here at Laurelwood to find that there has been some cataclysmic shift in the night and the ocean has surrounded Pine Mountain. Although the closest beach is about an hour from here, considering that this is earthquake country, that possibility isn't so far-fetched, though if it happened, being surrounded by the Pacific might not be the worst of our worries.

But at least this morning, the billowing white waves below weren't surf, just one of those heavy mists that touches everything with a wet gleam. The cool dampness was enough of an excuse to postpone work a bit and walk up to my mother-in-law's for coffee. Besides, the grape arbors are near her house. After coffee and conversation, we cut three large baskets of grapes. Figs came next – one of the trees is over 100 years old. My husband's grandfather climbed it as a small boy. Under the tree's swooping branches, there's always shade and often that's where we'll find the sheep when the temps climb into the 90s.

Fig Trees and Sheep