Friends who have a beach house unequivocally dislike the fog; because they lose their view. But I love foggy days at the beach, when sounds are muffled and the fog drifts across the familiar scenes, constantly changing the view. The foghorns moan in the distance, and ships come through the passage with no other warning but the sounds of water breaking across their bows.
Fog is quiet and serene and a bit spooky, and it brings out my nesting instincts. Time to bake bread, build a fire in the woodstove, sew, and read.
I'm happy to be snug in my little farmhouse.