Often we wonder whether the low fog that settles over Martinez will affect the beaver evening habits. Will they get up earlier or go to bed later because of the muted daylight? The answer seems to be no. I’m guessing that beaver alarm clocks are in their tummies, and they wake up when they’re hungry. (Especially the kits!) They certainly seem unpreturbed by the fog that lurks over their waterways, or the looming horn that sounds from the south.
There’s something a little magical about fog. As a child I remember looking down the hill on our street, and feeling that a truly foggy morning transformed my mundane walk to school into something from legend. If I couldn’t see the familiar sights a block away, then it was possible they were no longer there. I used to imagine a castle at the foot of the hill, grey and towering, just out of sight, but suddenly accessible by the blanket of fog that eliminated old landmarks. As I tried excitedly to find it, the murky, magical place always seemed to move farther away. I was sure if I could just make it stay put I would uncover that castle.
Here in Martinez, December fog is as familiar as a white christmas in a Bing Crosby movie. I like hearing the fog horn much better than the train whistle. Our intrepid photographer Cheryl Reynolds needs to capture some beavers in fog images, these were the only two I found on the web.
