Foggy Beach Day
One day last winter I drove my grown son, who is blind, and his girlfriend, who is also totally blind, to the beach. It was more complicated than simply dropping them off. They can’t see to get to the water. By the time I left them beside a picnic table with their beach chairs, searched for a place to park, hiked back to them and walked them out to the water, then helped them get situated, I was ready to go home.
Just kidding.
I helped them settle near a lifeguard stand, close to the water’s edge where they could hear the roar of the surf. To give them privacy, I took a hike and snapped photos to use for my newsletter and for painting references. I love painting the sea.
Since it was still early, I found an empty spot near the sea oats, pulled my hat over my face, and listened to a sweet little romance on my phone’s Audible app.
A short time later, I removed the ball cap. What a surprise. The beach was completely socked in with fog. I couldn’t see more than twenty feet ahead. Go figure. It turns out the cloud hovering at the horizon in the clear blue-sky was a huge mass of fog. I snapped a foggy photo on the way back up the beach. I was grateful I’d left my son and his girlfriend by the lifeguard stand so I had a landmark. By the time we were halfway home, it was bright and sunny, the fog a memory.
