The Fog

"Almost midnight.

Enough time for one more story.

One more story before just to keep us warm.

In five minutes, it'll be the 21st of April.

One hundred years ago on the 21st of April,

out in the waters around Spivey Point, a small clipper ship drew toward land.

Suddenly, out of the night, the fog rolled in.

For a moment, they could see nothing, not a foot ahead of them.

And then, they saw a light.

My God, it was a fire burning on the shore.

Strong enough to penetrate the swirling mist.

They steered a course toward the light.

But it was a campfire, like this one.

The ship crashed against the rocks.

The hull sheared in two.

The mast snapped like a twig.

And the wreckage sank with all the men aboard.

At the bottom of the sea lay the Elizabeth Dane with her crew,

their lungs filled with saltwater,

their eyes open and staring into the darkness.

And above, as suddenly as it had come,

the fog lifted, receded back across the ocean and never came again.

But it is told by the fishermen and their fathers and grandfathers,

that when the fog returns to Antonio Bay,

the men at the bottom of the sea, out in the water by Spivey Point,

will rise up and search for the campfire that led them to their dark, icy death.

Twelve o'clock.

The 21st of April."
-1980's The Fog Opening Scene


Tonight in Virginia Beach, the fog crept in slowly and steadily throughout the evening. I looked outside and couldn't see much further than my hand. I went to the lighthouse and took some photos, trying to get one of it shining in the fog. The fog was so thick though that even my camera couldn't make it out. This was the best edit I could make to show it. I like it though, it looks old, and eerie. A night like this should feel that way.

The fog is only getting thicker. The coast guard has to have the fog horn going - it's been on for hours. I've been going and sitting outside, listening to it. I've been searching for the light shining from the lighthouse, but I can't see it through the impenetrable fog. Yet I can hear the foghorn, it blows loudly, and even the dense midst can't take away from it.

The Fog is one of my favorite movies. I watch it whenever I get homesick. Tonight it feels like home came to me. I thought I would quote the infamous first scene, since it fit so well.

I'm posting this exactly at midnight on the other side of the country from where it takes place.

But the fog reaches us everywhere, no matter where we are in the world.

Have an enchanting witching hour, from midnight to one. Don't forget to admire the beautiful fog when it comes to visit you. However, stay safe in your homes as you watch it and listen to the foghorn, so the fog doesn't swallow you into the night.