The day started and ended in rolls of thick fog, luscious in its ability to abstract and fade the landscape. The greyness, the depth and tonal range of that one color, was visually arresting. In the warm glow of window lights through the cool mist, in the green pine needles poking through meandering ground clouds, there was a magic and a comfort right out of a children's story. By the time we got down to Nobadeer, surfers were all over the white rolling behemoths beating Nantucket's underbelly to a pulp.