Smoky Fog | Mark Lindsay

This morning I was greeted by real, genuine smog, a combination of smoke and fog. Granted, our fog is different than London fog, the fog that once mixed with coal smoke to originate the term, smog in the first place. But, today, it was smokey fog all the same.

The heat wave brought the dry brush and dry lightening. Add the two and some 800 fires erupted. Then came the smoke. Normally the fog brings in clean, crisp marine air. Not today. I went out for my walk and a golden veil had descended overnight.

Normally the golden light signals the beginning of autumn. After a season of intensely white light, the sun lowers its arc and the normal fire season is in full fury. Golden light and falling ash are no strangers in these parts. We just don’t normally see it in June.

The camera sees things in its own way. Our brains try to normalize everything we see, the camera just records what is there. Today it saw a netherworld seemingly suspended in time. While my nose and lungs were burning with irritation, I was presented with a dream of a landscape. My camera filled to the brim with gilded images, quite beautiful in a very unique way.