THIS IS THE SECOND of two days on which the mornings have been swathed in dense fog. Driving to work yesterday was a bizarre experience for an October. Most un-autumnal.
I would expect those walls of mist to accompany me on a late-March commute. I've seen thick fogs arise from fields old snow along my commutes through the Meadowlands or past the golf course in Emerson. With just the right temperature and humidity, a thick layer of vapor enshrouds these low-lying areas. Seeing this, I would half-expect a mounted war party to emerge from it, armor damp and ringing in the morning air, piercing the fog and centuries of time to invade the present day.
In March I expect it. With snow on the ground I expect it. Not in early October. Not in the fall.
We had a fleeting week of true fall weather some time ago. Mornings braced the skin and nights brought cool relief from three awful months. Autumn has been usurped by waves of summer-temperature days, and with it the asinine spectacle of running the air conditioner in a two-digit month.
If I wanted 80º temperatures at sundown, I'd take advantage of the subprime meltdown and move to Las Vegas. As someone who likes the seasonal swirl of falling leaves and the double-whammy of cider and doughnuts fresh from the farmstand, however, my place is here, much as I love the Neon Havens.
Vexing to say the least. I expect a confused polar bear loping through town is next.