Fogged

I'm not big on holidays, so instead of the typical 'be thankful' kind of post from me, I'll give you a little story of one of my days recently. I do hope that the Americans reading this are enjoying their holiday though.

Every morning for the past week, I have awoken to intense fog.

I am renaming November as
 'the foggy season'.
But let me tell you about one foggy day in particular.
On Saturday, the funeral home where I work part time is open from 9am until 2pm. Here you can see my drive into work that day. Let's keep in mind that here in Michigan, deer hunting season has just started. So you have not only the threat of unruly drivers on the road, but the hunters spook the deer to run right out in front of you. Add to that this thick fog and it can be somewhat nerve wracking to drive for any length of time.

Here I am approaching the end of the freeway. At this point, I am on a bridge and the approach ramp for the bridge to Canada is on my left. You can faintly see the post that holds the sign that hangs above the freeway that reads 'Canada Only'. I have to wonder how many people accidentally went to Canada that day.

 The temperature was just below freezing. So the fog actually froze to the backside of my heated mirrors on my car during the drive.

After putting in my time working the office during the day, I was about to close up shop and head for home when the phone rang. It was a man informing me that his father had died that morning and they wanted us to handle the funeral. I  sympathized with his loss and started to take down all the vital information. We wonder each year who will get the first deer hunting casualty. And it looks like this year, we won. The man had gotten his deer sometime in the night and was dragging it back to his car when he had a heart attack and died. His friends found him in the morning. After the coroner had released the body, it was transported to an area funeral home where it was being embalmed and prepared for the trip home. 

The funeral home was a three hour drive from where I was. So I jumped in the van and headed out. 

 It was a beautiful evening for the drive and I really didn't mind it at all. I reached the other funeral home just after sunset. After loading up the van with all his hunting gear, I swung into my brother's house and drug him out to dinner. I don't get a chance to see him much and had to drive right past the town that he lives in. So it only made sense to stop and catch up a little. Sometime during dinner, my brother told me there was a news report of someone having a heart attack while hunting and he wondered if I'd heard that report.

 Then it was back in the van for the long drive back to the funeral home. The deer population in that area is greater than the human population and they seemed to be lounging on the side of the road everywhere. Maybe they feel safer around the speeding cars than in the woods with the hunters.

 After dropping the deceased off back at work, I headed home. I looked over at the gas station just off the freeway. There was a low laying cloud...aka fog, hovering just above the station and the green, blue and red lights steaked across the night sky and resembled the northern lights. I remember thinking how beautiful it was. Then, as I refocused my attention to the road ahead of me, this is what I saw.

And this is moments later. That car is still there. Somewhere. Over and over, the car in front of me would hit their brakes as they entered the next wall of fog and seconds later, would disappear altogether. This would happen every mile or so and it is only a 35 mile drive. Finding exits and keeping track of where other drivers were was quite the challenge. Even trying to ascertain where I was, was a challenge. So I put on my foghat for the slow ride and took it easy.



I was so glad to pull into my driveway at home, walk in the door and see my dog Pugsley. Even though I had been gone all day, he was so happy to see me. This fog has been like this every day for a week and it's getting old. It certainly isn't a place for someone with claustrophobia or hair like mine that frizzes with the slightest bit of humidity.