
Escape to Kings Canyon, part 6: Grant Grove and the national park story
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A GHOSTLY MIASMA
The weather changed overnight at Hume Lake. Rain was beginning to fall and a chill was in the air when I woke up. I drank my coffee quickly and ran down to the lake with my camera.
Though I’d seen plenty of fog in Santa Cruz, I’d never seen anything quite like the mist hanging over the lake that morning. It looked like smoke rising from a hundred tiny fires under the surface of the water. Fog drifted in iridescent segments between stands of trees on the opposite shore. Clouds smothered the sun, and the fogbanks turned white and opaque; when the sun came out, the fog became translucent. The effect was both spooky and sublime.