Along the coast or in the mountains, we hope for great views. Nothing stirs the soul like standing alone under a vast landscape that stretches from horizon to horizon. But sometimes the natural world has other ideas.
In Northern California, we know a roiling fog bank can spoil a seaside sunset. In summer, hot air from the Central Valley will race up the Sierra slope and condense into a thunderous tumult that does far more than just obscure the view. Mists, whether seaside fog or mountain thunderheads, can erase our hoped-for view and reduce visibility to a matter of feet.
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I have often gone out with high hopes for grand views only to be disappointed by a shrouded landscape. Then I remember Dewitt’s advice, and I release my expectations and look again. Sometimes, there’s magic.
There might be beams of soft light streaking through thin wisps that suggest some angelic presence. Maybe, as the fog recedes, it luffs through the treetops and collects softly in the creases of the coastal hills. Or maybe the show is simply the changing scene as the warming sun melts the morning mist.
My job is to arrive without expectations. It may not be the one I hoped for, but the show is always on.