It rained almost the entire time I was in Virginia Beach last month, giving me a moody view of Atlantic fog from my oceanside room. Living in a part of California where the sun shines just about every day and our sky is almost always blue, I enjoyed the change. Except for how wavy it made my carefully straightened hair. Oh, I remember those humid days living on the East coast. So take a break from your summer and join me on this foggy visit to the Atlantic coast.
The world is wrapped in fog with no line of demarcation between the grey Atlantic Ocean and the grey sky. Only the constant roar of the ocean, almost like static, tells me I’m at the coast. The Pacific crashes and breaks but these ocean waves are white noise, almost muffled, like when you place a seashell to your ear. The Atlantic is background for meditation.
Lonely lifeguards sit atop their towers, scanning the water. A few brave souls bounce in the active surf. Are they intrepid or just stupid? I’m reminded that every year some tourist on the Pacific coast is swept off a rock by a rogue wave as they pose for what will be their very last selfie.
No one is posing in the Atlantic fog today. Most of the beach is deserted with just those few heads in the water, being supervised by young men.
The sand is wet, beach chairs are still piled up, unused. My hair, blown straight today, waves up quickly in the humid air and my California-dry skin feels like it’s walked into a facial.
Although families have departed their vacation week at Virginia Beach for sunnier shores, I like the solitary mood of this grey week.
Would you like to see the Atlantic fog as I saw it and hear the soothing sounds of the surf that week? Kick up your volume.