Rain during the day moistened the air. Clearing at night allowed cold moist air to drain to the valley bottom where by morning a fog had formed.
The fog drifts along the shore and back and forth across the Lake.
Where the fog drifts through the shoreline trees, sunlight casts crepuscular rays.
My favourite scene, however, is of the fog arching in a giant wave over an obstacle, in much the same manner as water flowing over a rock in a stream.
I am hoping you can tell me more about this “obstacle” to the “great wave” and of what it may consist. I get it that you have offered a simile for my edification about how the great wave is now like a stream flowing over a rock, which it admittedly does seem to do. But I am always looking for that extra step to something I can commit to, let it be X or whatever, and a rock in the air is not something I can see.
Doug, oh, the obstacle is just small peninsula sticking out of the distant shore. The penninsula isn’t particularly obvious as we are looking straight into it.
Thank you! I should have known there is a rational explanation. The obstacle, in this case I guess, is not an island, but almost, that is redirecting the air up and over. The peninsula, with respect to the air, is like a private property of nature.
I can smell the morning mist. a ha–sigh