Spring is well under way. The leaves are newly emerged and the temperatures have risen enough to allow for sleeping with the windows open. However, one thing that is missing is fog.
Having grown up in St. John's, Newfoundland, I know fog. When the warm Gulf Stream current reaches northern latitudes and collides with the colder Labrador current, the result is fog, plenty of it. Newfoundland is in its path. Fog rolls into the harbours and bays, over the hills, enveloping everything natural and man made. It impedes air travel and makes highway travel more risky as well. People adapt their lives to pea soup-like fog conditions.
Rick and I spent our married lives in central Newfoundland, as far away from the ocean as one can get on the island of Newfoundland. While there was not as much fog as in the coastal areas of the island, fog was still a part of life.
Now, living in Prince Edward Island, near the ocean again, it is curious that there is so little fog. Lacking the interaction of the warm Gulf Stream and the cold Labrador current, there is little generation of the misty droplets. We notice its absence.
Harbourside in Summerside
Here, the ocean view is rarely shrouded in fog. The grey, blue, or muddy dark waters glisten under the sun, at high and low tide. Sometimes however, we miss the fog of home; or is it the connection to our birthplace that we really miss?