Judy: 

I didn't know they had fog horns on Lake Michigan, but then it's really an inland sea. Though I grew up on the Bay side of the San Francisco peninsula, cheek to jowl with what is now known as Silicon Valley, it was the San Francisco fog horns that remain the most haunting sound from childhood. I fell asleep to their deep calls reaching out. They're still back there, even though, unlike the occasional shake of an earthquake, they no longer exist. 

The fog is still here. Some wag has given it a page on Facebook called Carl the Fog.

Cheers,
J

___________________________

Jaime Robles

On 18 Oct 2014, at 11:42, Judy Prince wrote:

Jaime,

So enjoying all of these views (sounds), yours the first I've actually experienced as I've not lived near the sea, but fog horns were plentiful in cities near massive Lake Michigan where I was raised.  The sound of fog horns linked in their complex mournfulness with the more prevalent nightly train whistles. 

These many evocations recall my experiences/conclusions from a small dreams' analysis group in the US.  As with our (Britpo folks') interps, all of the views seemed 'right', fitting, illuminating.

Best,

foggy Judy or is it 'froggy' 

On 18 October 2014 17:19, Jaime Robles <[log in to unmask]> wrote:

And fog horns? Did you have fog horns? Their sounds seem to have disappeared ...

Cheers,
J

___________________________

Jaime Robles

On 18 Oct 2014, at 08:32, Tim Allen wrote:

A sound that sticks with me. Middle of the night, waiting alone on the Devonport side of the Tamar for the Torpoint Ferry to come back across. It's a chain-ferry. Low tide - long lengths of chain lying limp on the long concrete rampway. It's cold and very calm. The chain begins to creak, imperceptibly move, lift itself and stretch. Then a sudden deafening scrape as it shifts a few feet to the side, the tide pulling it. Creak. Scrape. Creak. Scrape. then the distant sound of the chain running through the bowls of the ferry with a faster and faster rhythm -clank clank clank, gradually drowning out the creak and scrape of the chain on the ramp, now fully taught and glistening in the light of the lampposts from the car park.

Cheers Robert

Tim

On 18 Oct 2014, at 16:14, Hampson, R wrote:

I have always associated this line with childhood memories of walking beside the Mersey and seeing chains hanging from dockwalls being moved by the tide… but this might be a false memory.