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8 January, 2005

Big breaths

My mother always told me to breathe through my nose when out in fog, presumably because the dense moisture traps smoke and pollutants.
It's been clear but really windy here for the past couple of days, and from the thick crust of airborne dust on my windows, I think I'll be wearing a scarf around my face if I go out.  At least fog doesn't leave a coating on glass, which implies it's cleaner.
Perhaps that wasn't the case when my mother was growing up in 1940s, coal-heated Birkenhead, but in modern Lancaster, fueled by gas and electricity, I suspect the greater threats are wind-borne road salt and desiccated cat sh*t.

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