When the fog descends...

…head to Deal. Or Margate. Or Folkestone. Or…well, anywhere.

Fog is that magical element that we all (I think?) hope for at this time of year. You scour the weather apps, desperate for a sign, anything, that suggests maybe there will be some fog on the way. You build your hopes up when Clear Outside suggests 10 for fog, only to remember all those times before when it was just cloudy. Or you check the Met Office, excited to see a VP for visibility. Could this be the moment? Or will it be another VP that turns out to be E?

Most of the time, you’re hesitant because that forecast for fog hits the morning and, let’s face it, even in the winter, that morning rise can be a bit of a chore when all you have is a hint of hope that maybe you’ll wake to find that you can barely see beyond your doorstep. But every now and then, the forecast is in the evening and when that happens…bingo! No early rising, no dragging yourself out of bed on a cold morning, it’s just a late afternoon drive somewhere, and a leisurely stroll around before getting home in time for tea. Fog in the afternoon/evening is the dream, so often much more elusive than in the morning.

It just so happens that this last weekend, fog was forecast in the evening. So I decided to grab my stuff and head to Deal and hope for the best. Imagine my disappointment as I got ever closer, only to find there was not even the slightest hint of fog. Was I in for disappointment? Perhaps. Oh well, I got out of the house at least…

Found a suitable parking space, parked up, grabbed my coat, my camera bag, my beanie…wait, what’s that? That street lamp seems to be picking up some mist rolling in. Don’t tell me it’s actually going to happen? The very moment I park up, now the fog is going to roll in? This never happens. I’m nearly always in for disappointment. Well, we’re in. Let’s go!

And so into town, down the sidestreets, onto the promenade…the pier is…well, it’s there because I can see the lights. But that’s all I can see. Other than two figures sitting on the wall looking out to sea. Maybe a walk on the pier would be good with the lights…I feel an urge to channel my inner blade runner fandom. Just need the right subject, a person or couple that I can make the subject, with enough distance to other people to make it appear like they are on their own. A couple going for an eery walk down the pier in the evening, with the pier lights shining bright. That will do the job.

Back into town. Fog, cold, condensation…there have got to be some shots to be had here. The ice cream parlour. That usually works. Almost empty, but for a couple sitting at a table, reading a paper. Great. Sometimes you just get lucky. Sometimes the opportunities just scream out at you. Sure, sometimes the shot can be obvious, perhaps there’s more unique shots to be had if you just spend a bit of time thinking about it, but what if the moment goes? What if you lose any shot at all? All the thoughts that buzz around your head before you press down on the shutter. There will be plenty of times to mess around and experiment. Sometimes it’s just about getting the shot, no matter how obvious it feels in hindsight.

A potter back through town, hands in pockets, longing for the warmth of the car. And then it’s done. Got lucky. Got shots. Got cold. Got home. Until next time, evening fog. Whenever that may be…