Fog rolls in

Guess what? When the captain can't see the ferry can't go. I learned this after waiting patiently as the fog tickled my cheeks and made me wish for a blanket, a book and a cup of coffee. I wasn't the only one waiting. The gate was up, there were no signs saying, "we give up! go back to bed!"...I listened for the sound of the engine but only heard the water lapping below me. I looked through the grate and watched the water carry a plastic bottle closer to a new home on the shore. The real estate market seems to be very tight  at the ferry terminal for an upstanding piece of litter like this bottle, but I imagine it will push its way in somehow.

Something moves in my peripheral vision and I spy a white egret hunting for breakfast. The sky and the water are the same shade of grey and I wonder if the egret ever gets confused about which way is up.

Finally, a gentleman parked beside my bike on the ramp exits the vehicle to relay the news he just learned,  (probably on NPR, because he looked the type, happily) the ferry is out of service because of the fog.

Back up the ramp I go to contemplate how best to get to work. I decide that I will wait for the bus as it would take the same amount of time as driving across the bridge and then I'd have to pay for parking to boot. But the bus was late and by the time I got to the stop the ferry was running again, the fog having retreated in advance of the morning sun. So, it was the ferry after all.

PS. That evening I learned that the ferry also doesn't run in high winds. Fickle beast.