MOODY FOG

Think of the many times you have been at some harbor on the coast or along the river when the fog rolls in and the mood changes. Remember how delightful it seemed.

“Fog” by Carl Sandburg, first appeared in Sandburg’s first mainstream collection of poems in 1916, “Chicago Poems. ” Sandburg has described the genesis of the poem. At a time when he was carrying a book of Japanese Haiku, he went to interview a juvenile court judge, and had cut through Grant Park. He saw the fog over Chicago Harbor. He had certainly seen many fogs before, but this time he had to wait forty minutes for the judge. Having only a piece of newsprint on hand to work with he decided to create an “American Haiku” For years I thought Sandburg wrote this poem about San Francisco Harbor. Only recently have I realized he was speaking of Chicago Harbor. I have loved this poem for years.

Fog shows up when water vapor, or water in its gaseous form, condenses. During condensation, molecules of water vapor combine to make tiny liquid water droplets that hang in the air. Fog can form any time of the year but is most prevalent in Autumn.

ON A DIFFERENT NOTE:

We have had a busy week with birthdays. Latah turned ten last week. There was a party for her at her friend Geneva’s house the day before her birthday. Heather had a party for her at their house on the birth date. We had a birthday dinner in her honor two days later. Latah was definitely the Birthday Girl.

Also, Happy Birthday to Jason who celebrated his 52nd year with a relaxing day at home after a morning of attending Mass and teaching Sunday school. That evening he enjoyed a delicious dinner at home with his family.

Time moves on and my golden world is now one of copper. So many leaves have fallen trails are obliterated beneath layers of copper leaves.

With my copper colored world, fog rolling in, and people still sending Halloween costume photos my way, my spirits are high. Here are two home made costumes I find to be very clever and want to share with you. My niece Emily made masks out of milk jugs and my friend Kathy’s daughter dressed one of her daughters as a jelly fish.

This may only be of interest to me, or perhaps others, if they have an appreciation of the days of old, but here’s the story. When we moved to White Salmon 50 some years ago this was the altar of our parish church, St Joseph’s. Before long we had a new altar put in and this one disappeared. Recently some folks bought property in our area and found this altar stashed in a barn on the property. They put a notice on the internet and a number of people remembered or recognized it as being the altar from St Joseph’s. The altar is badly in need of repair but it has come home. The physical building of St Joseph’s is a registered historical building and so hopefully there will be a place for this old altar to again serve God in its own designated spot.