Baptismal Fog

Marine Layer Musings

 A lot of folks are complaining about the lack of sunshine this past week in Santa Barbara. They are begrudging the fog, like it’s an uninvited guest who has trespassed upon our fair city.

I’ve actually found the change of weather to be quite soothing. Awakening to soft light and slow moving mist has reminded me that life can often be best experienced when I soften up and slow down.

I’ve been enjoying the cool quiet whispers of the ocean mists as I walk my dogs in a nearby park. I find myself feeling a bit shrouded from the rest of the world, and it feels cozy and comfortable. I feel the marine mist reflects the gentleness of Nature, an offering of a blanket, encouraging me to snuggle into the embrace of my own Soul.

I’ve been in Santa Barbara for over a year, and it’s truly the most beautiful place I have lived. The pied shades of her weather create a unique palette of natural beauty. Because of the Channel Islands, Santa Ynez Mountains, and Pacific Ocean, Santa Barbara experiences unusual tides and weather patterns that support amazing marine life and vegetation. It’s the mix of Mother Nature’s many moods that create a magical vortex of beauty, vitality, and peace.

The recent foggy mornings in Santa Barbara have inspired the rhyme in my ancient mariner poet’s heart. So, here’s a little poem I wrote after one of my morning walks. As I walked with my dogs in a small grove of trees, I was struck by the beauty of the fog. The trees adorned with lacy white dresses. The birds singing, nary a sour note about the lack of sunshine. I felt grateful to live in a place that makes my heart shine bright, even on the foggiest of mornings.

So, the next time the fog rolls in, instead of scoffing her, welcome the cool quiet air. Allow yourself to be enveloped in the elements of life that evoke mystery.


Baptismal Fog

Marine layer tucks over my shoulders.

I nestle into the embrace of the Pacific mist,

snuggled in the womb

of oceanic sighs.

Enveloped in an Angel aura,

I exhale,

allowing surrender into the mariner’s veil of mystic lace.

Tears, an offering

to Holy Waters of sanctified grace.


The tide of ancient layers

flows into the rasa of Life.

O’er the strife

and stubborn will to be strong,

grief lifts.

From the mists

of sea air,

bird songs

navigate me home.


No longer lost in the foggy mourning.