Why “fogdog” is a great word
FOGDOG — [Noun] A ray or patch of light, often bright and clear, seen within or breaking through a fog bank. The word is a compound of 'fog' (from Old Norse 'fok', meaning 'spray, drift') and 'dog', by analogy with 'sundog' (a bright spot beside the sun, from Old English 'dogga', of obscure origin). First attested in 1831. Unlike a "sundog" (a precise, icy refraction in the high atmosphere) or "crepuscular rays" (dramatic, structural beams defined by cloud-shadow), a fogdog is a quiet, local reprieve wrought by water droplets. It is the sudden woolly gleam in a harbor mist that reveals a ship's silhouette, the pale luminous rent in a hillside cloud that promises a path, or the soft diffused halo around a streetlamp that turns a blind corner into a hopeful threshold—a brief argument for clarity within the pervasive argument for obscurity.