The scariness and idiocy of driving standards in thick fog this week has left me speechless. I am glad that I have not had to venture out much onto the highways of England this week but it was always driving in thick fog that scared the bejeezus out of me primarily on account of other driver’s behaviour. I am myopically challenged and I can only assume that drivers that drive at speed in visibility of less than 10 yards must see the world as I do without either my lenses in or spectacles on. There must be something in the psyche of people once they get into a box of metal on 3 or 4 wheels that makes them feel invincible.
Maybe they have never ridden a motorbike or for that matter navigated through a pea-souper at sea? I am ever grateful for the discovery and evolution of radar just up the coast from here. I qualified as a radar observer back in 1979 and only when cars are fitted with such a device that can also limit the speed at which the vehicle travels would I feel safe on the roads in thick fog or indeed very heavy rain.

Fog does offer opportunities for atmospheric image making though and I ventured down to the wet dock in Ipswich this morning to sample the delights of reduced visibility and the loss of detail in the mist, highlighting what indeed has passed us by in the mists of time. These images are a far cry from the large format panorama I made last week from the rooftop of the James Hehir building but by picking my subject matter and indeed the deliberate choice of fog and mist to shroud and swallow the detail, I am just as pleased.