"Just wait a minute, the weather will change," a statement I remember hearing as a child. Although it referenced New England weather, it was also a testament to hearty souls living within this picturesque northern climate, yet it pretty much sums up the sunny tropical paradise known as Florida as well. Maybe it followed me and the multitude of New Englanders that call the sunshine state, home. I really don't know, but case in point, with a quick reassuring tap to the old "wooden noggin," hurricanes: since three hit this area of the peninsula state halfway through the first decade of the new millennium, nope, nada, none, dare raise their ugly heads again. For the record, Walt Disney himself, researching central Florida weather patterns, knew this long before I arrived! The flip side of the coin, violent thunderstorms are numerous, may be treacherous, are extremely dangerous, and much to my husband's chagrin, a regular occurrence during spring and summer months. However, the emphasis needs be on tropical sunshine and warmth especially during the winter months. The local newspaper reporting, "fantastic winter weather drives tourism and agriculture in Florida," not really a news flash, but in the spirit of "take the good with the bad," it's reportable!
A weather phenomenom not normally mentioned and extensively reported on unless tragedy strikes, is FOG. Although it occurs worldwide, London first coming to mind, for the record, I would not feel hurt if the British cornered the market on this silent, eerie mass of moisture that shrouds the landscape in an instant, making people do crazy things. Associating a full moon with outlandish, strange and even bizzare antics, FOG if often forgotten! Some little know facts: Drivers, undaunted by over head signage, "use caution, HEAVY FOG ahead," put the pedal to the metal, hit the passing lane and they are gone! Simply put, Why? Are they more afraid of this dense, seemingly endless mass of quietness that rolls swiftly, enveloping all who venture into its black endlessness? Are they claustrophobic and in the face of danger and a need to reach the other side, they drive with reckless abandonment, threatening all in close proximity to their madness? Or do they just throw caution to the wind saying, "what the #%*@?
As a person who enjoys her late evening rides, radio blaring, windows open, the endless star-studded skies with an occassional falling star on which to make a wish, the FOG although sinister and mysterious, is a time to open windows, heat on, no radio and drive at reasonable speeds and listen. The quietness and solitude very much a rush, the dampness cleansing the spirit, the endlessness breathing new life into the weary brain, drained from activities of the day. The FOG, washes the landscape, Mother Nature's way of saying, "move my children, under my cloak of secrecy. Watch, observe and explore and for the sake of well being, do not venture far on the highways and by-ways, humans and their strange ways cannot handle my spring cleaning!"
A weather phenomenom not normally mentioned and extensively reported on unless tragedy strikes, is FOG. Although it occurs worldwide, London first coming to mind, for the record, I would not feel hurt if the British cornered the market on this silent, eerie mass of moisture that shrouds the landscape in an instant, making people do crazy things. Associating a full moon with outlandish, strange and even bizzare antics, FOG if often forgotten! Some little know facts: Drivers, undaunted by over head signage, "use caution, HEAVY FOG ahead," put the pedal to the metal, hit the passing lane and they are gone! Simply put, Why? Are they more afraid of this dense, seemingly endless mass of quietness that rolls swiftly, enveloping all who venture into its black endlessness? Are they claustrophobic and in the face of danger and a need to reach the other side, they drive with reckless abandonment, threatening all in close proximity to their madness? Or do they just throw caution to the wind saying, "what the #%*@?
As a person who enjoys her late evening rides, radio blaring, windows open, the endless star-studded skies with an occassional falling star on which to make a wish, the FOG although sinister and mysterious, is a time to open windows, heat on, no radio and drive at reasonable speeds and listen. The quietness and solitude very much a rush, the dampness cleansing the spirit, the endlessness breathing new life into the weary brain, drained from activities of the day. The FOG, washes the landscape, Mother Nature's way of saying, "move my children, under my cloak of secrecy. Watch, observe and explore and for the sake of well being, do not venture far on the highways and by-ways, humans and their strange ways cannot handle my spring cleaning!"
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