I walked through ice fog once. It lay low, pressed against the earth under a brilliant sun. Tiny spicules of ice hung suspended in the air, sparkling and refracting light everywhere. Ice fog forms when the air is extremely cold and moisture can exist only in a solid state.
Yesterday on our return home from Anchorage we were grounded in Fairbanks by ice fog. Not pretty like that other time, this was thick like soup and dowsed the sun’s energy. And it had unexpected consequences. There were three other teachers with me and the delay was a catastrophic hardship on our school; there simply weren’t enough substitutes in the village to fill so many voids. We all felt badly about that for a moment, then we did what any sensible bush teacher would do when stuck in Fairbanks. We went shopping, caught up on sleep and took in a movie at the theater. It was The Grey, of course, a story about Arctic crash survivors hunted by wolves.