Oh, how appropriate. Preparations for tonight’s shindig are well underway and then I looked out the window to see that nature had decided to chime in with an appropriately spooky natural phenomenon.
You may have seen it yourself some late night or early morning driving home. It usually happens in moist environments when the temperature is just right: fog rises eerily from the ground and hovers there, about 3 feet deep, cloaking the ground in an opaque mist. That type of fog is quite common here in boggy, rainy Ireland and is called “tuli” (pronounced “TOO-lee”)fog.
It used to occur from time to time in the bay area when I was a kid and I always loved it, especially when it was so thick you could go strolling through it, watching it wrap milky tendrils around your legs until you emerged onto higher ground with the bottoms of your jeans soaked through. When I was older sometimes it would rise as high as the fenders of the car, the prow of the vehicle would push through it, parting it like a boat sailing a mystical lake.
The photo above isn’t the best, but the entire Shannon flood plane south of Athlone is covered in a milky soup, with rocks, hedges, trees and small rise hills protrouding through the threading mists. It really looks amazing.