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Chasing Fog

Finding enchantment in a cloud

Laura Pashby


At first, I didn’t find fog – fog found me.

Liminal, transformative and increasingly elusive – far from a simple cloud of water droplets, fog is a state of mind. As mist drifted through a copse of trees, turning a familiar place strange and otherworldly, Laura Pashby snapped a photograph and an obsession began.

Pashby hunts for fog, walks and swims in it, explores its often pivotal role in literature, mythology and history, as well as its environmental significance. There has been a 50 per cent drop in ‘fog events’ in the past fifty years, fog is drifting away without us noticing and the ecological impact could be calamitous.

As she journeys to the foggiest places she can find, Pashby immerses herself in Dartmoor’s dangerous fog, searches for the Scottish haar, experiences Venice’s magical mist, tell us the myths behind the River Severn’s fog and the shipwrecks it hides.

It’s easy to get lost in fog, but sometimes it’s where imperceptible things can be found, including in ourselves. Chasing Fog is a captivating meditation on fog and mist, a love song to weather and nature’s power to transform.


‘A lovely meander through foggy landscapes and their meanings.’
Katherine May

‘Laura Pashby approaches that most mysterious and misunderstood weather with a photographer’s eye and a writer’s curiosity: this clear-sighted and loving ode to fog is a beautiful adventure.’
Alice Vincent, author of Why Women Grow

‘An ode to the magic of the unknown, the unpredictable and the unseen; Chasing Fog is both fascinating and gorgeously written. Haunting and beautiful, this surprising mix of nature-writing and memoir draws us into the strange and nuanced world of fog and reminds us of the potency and potential in moments of dream and drift.’
Rebecca Schiller, author of Earthed

‘A charming exploration of fog, mist, haar and haze that captures that dreamy state of mind that accompanies it and the uncanny aspect of low visibility. Laura Pashby guides us across gloomy moors lit by will-o-the-wisps, past clifftop beacons beating out their local rhythms, and through the labyrinthine mist-wreathed streets of Venice. Eerie and evocative.’
Cal Flyn, author of Islands of Abandonment