This morning, the visibility was very low here. We've had many foggy mornings in the last few weeks, but this was the thickest fog I've seen this year.

Sentinel in Fog, Jan. 16, 2010

Copyright © 2010 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved

It rained today, but I was determined to go to the Viewpoint, all the same. By the time I got there, the rain had let up, to a point. Above the treetops, there were patches of mist. I didn't stay long.

Gray Day, Jan. 11, 2010

Copyright © 2010 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved

I made it to the Viewpoint before dawn today, but I didn't take any photos. Later I went back. Just as I arrived, a couple came walking by. I asked them whether we were looking at fog or mist. The woman seemed especially sure that it was mist. I asked them what the difference was. The woman said, and the man with her concurred, that mist is made of larger droplets of water. I'm not sure, but I'm always curious what other people think.

Fog, Jan. 5, 2010

Copyright © 2010 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved

It rained all day yesterday. By evening, the fog set in. There may have been fog earlier, but not as much as there was by evening. In the evening there was more fog than during the day.

The U District from the Hill, Jan. 4, 2010

Copyright © 2010 Paul D. Natkin, All Rights Reserved

The Sentinel and Samaras

There was no one at the Viewpoint when I went there this evening. It was drizzling, and there was a fair amount of mist in the air, which gave the Christmas lights here and there an aura. I noticed that there were still a few dry leaves hanging lifelessly from the Sentinel, and some samaras, too. Then I thought of the artist Lucas Samaras and wondered how it came about that his name is the same as the name for the things that contain the seeds of the maple tree. When the wind blows, and they're ready to fall, the samaras get picked up by the wind and carried quite far from the tree where they grew. As I left the Viewpoint, I passed a person walking a dog--a woman, I believe.

Looking Towards the Mountains

As I look across the lake to the Cascades I always think about the other side--the "dry side." I remember one time as I was approaching the pass how completely enveloped in mist everything was. And then almost the moment I made it across the pass, the sun was shining, and it was as if I'd entered a completely different world. And then came all that high desert area, and then fruit-growing country and more desert--of a different kind--and then, much further, the rolling hills covered with golden wheat. I think of all of that whenever I look at the mountains.