A Tale of Fog and Leavings

In researching my book, The Girl from Simon's Bay, I learnt that there are different kinds of fog (obscure research, I realise)... some born of night-time radiation as the earth cools, some described as cloudbase-lowering, and others that arrive as creeping waves caused by a process called advection. Sometimes all three follow one another, sometimes they are distinct.

Louise, heroine of the novel, dreaded the fog that swirled in from the sea.      
At least wind came at you directly. You could feel it, and set your back against it. The silent creep of the mist was a more subtle assault. To me it was like a snake, a cobra uncoiling through the grass, a threat that might engulf you when you least expected it. 

Advection fog can often be spotted during the day as a marine "layer", parked along the coast. Only once temperatures drop in the late afternoon or early evening, do these foggy fronts advance. Like a slowly building wave, they are a photographer's dream... but a mariner's nightmare. The string of lighthouses I described in earlier blogs are crucial under such conditions to prevent shipwrecks around Cape Point.  

No such weather affected a different kind of journey that Louise must take: 
Eviction is a humiliating business. 
It would have been more fitting if the weather had been bad and shrouded the entire event in mist or deluge. But the southeaster remained at bay, the ships in the dockyard gleamed. A perfect day for moving... 
The trucks laboured up the hill, along with a police van to make sure there was no trouble. But no one has the heart or the energy for violence. Ma comes to sit beside me. We take each other's hands. The sea winks with a brilliance I must try to remember.