Fall has many faces. Not all filled with the lush color of leaves gracing branches and ground. Admittedly those are the images that first come to my mind when making its way into my thinking each year. Just the word gets my heart racing, camera twitchy, motor runnin'.
But fall does have many faces here in the Northwest. And it can be clever. Pesky. But not to the extent of the insane fog in the San Joaquin Valley of California. Tule Fog. It is famous for the many dangers that march in step with its progress.
Instead the fog of the Northwest, though thick at times, seems to softly hover; framing, highlighting and dissolving by mid morn most often. Though not always. Some Sunday mornings it lingers long enough for me to finish my early chores and give it a good chase.
Such was the case on a Sunday morn in Manchester where boats were having a quiet foggy float. Seattle, in the distance, remained shrouded. Sleeping in.