“Magic doesn’t sweep you away; it gathers you up into the body of the present moment so thoroughly that all your explanations fall away: the ordinary, in all its plain and simple outrageousness, begins to shine – to become luminously, impossible so.  Every facet of the world is awake, and you within it.


The deeper I slid into the material density of the real, the more I found that there was nothing determinate or predictable about existence.  Actuality, this inexhaustible mystery, cannot be domesticated.  It is wildness incarnate.  Reality shape shifts.”

~ David Abram




mostly foggy


















a few days in Maine


“Mornings meant ‘thick o’ fog’ that caught on rooftops and dripped, blurring weathered gray shingles while barely muting the deep pink of rosa rugosa or the hydrangea’s blue. Wood smoke filled the air on rainy days, pine sap on sunny ones, and wafting through it all was the briny smell of the sea.”

~ Barbara Delinsky, Sweet Salt Air



“the ocean mist
engulfs me, like a lifetime’s
friendship honored.”
~ Sanober Khan

scenes of a foggy morning











foggy old tree

I’ll make a voice like all of time and all of the fog that ever was; I’ll make a voice that is like an empty bed beside you all night long, and like an empty house when you open the door, and like trees in autumn with no leaves. A sound like the birds flying south, crying, and a sound like November wind and the sea on the hard, cold shore. I’ll make a sound that’s so alone that no one can miss it, that whoever hears it will weep in their souls, and hearths will seem warmer, and being inside will seem better to all who hear it in the distant towns. I’ll make me a sound and an apparatus and they’ll call it a Fog Horn and whoever hears it will know the sadness of eternity and the briefness of life.”

“The Fog Horn blew.”
~ Ray Bradbury, The Fog Horn


on Chestnut Hill Farm
Southborough, Massachusetts

fogged in

Porpoise Point Light


morning fog

fogged in

beach walkers

beach day

ready for summer

on the rocks

Maine house


on the Kennebunk


just whistle

the veranda

Nonantum Inn

on the weekend before Memorial Day, my husband and I took a few days off down Maine
every year we stay at the Nonantum Inn in Kennebunkport
it’s a tradition that we’ve carried on for years now
and it’s so wonderful that they know us and always leave us a nice “welcome back” note in our room
this year was a bit different as we visited before the official start of summer
it was quiet and cool and foggy
a changed atmosphere from what we are used to
and I have to say that it was quite a nice change
to walk the beach and not have it crowded with “wall to wall” beach blankets
a beautiful atmosphere in the fog

and the fact that there were no long lines at the Clam Shack
was an added plus!