
The fog bank forms early almost every morning, and it’s almost eerie how it creeps in. Ships just vanish into it like the opening scene of some horror movie.
It makes one appreciate the skill of the captains in the old days, navigating by feel: listening to foghorns and watching for lighthouses. It is quite incredible that there weren’t more maritime accidents.
So I completely understand their need for rum.



But when it rolls over us, it gives the land a primordial feel. One can imagine T-Rex bursting out of the forest.
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