Morning Fog

acrylic/mixed medium on board, 10" x 16"

$6,500

Having spent considerable time boating on the coast of Maine I have some first-hand experience dealing with fog. Often it may come in softly as implied by the poem, but more often than not it comes in like a freight train. One minute you see it far off shore, then suddenly it surrounds you in a cloud like mist that distorts light, sight, and sounds that are disconcerting at best. You see and hear things in the fog that may or may not be there. It changes one’s sense of time and place. One's hope in those moments is to get yourself and your boat back safely to the dock before the distortions become a reality.

Carl Sandburg wrote the following about fog…

“The fog comes on little cat feet. It sits looking over harbor and city on silent haunches and then moves on.”