We are watching for fog in the mornings this month. One of the meteorologists in the Maritimes reported recently about weather lore for August which her grandmother always repeated. As her family lore has it, every foggy morning in August means a storm the following winter.
On a beautiful morning earlier this month, we headed to the boardwalk by the bay for a walk with the golden grand-dog. As we drove down to the harbour, we saw the fog bank. It had crept in from the Northumberland Strait and was beginning to creep over the shoreline.
“That’s one,” my husband said. We both laughed. Will we be laughing this winter is the question?
Does the ferocity of the storm have anything to do the length of time it is foggy? On this particular morning, the fog dissipated quickly.
We’ll have to ask Grandma.