Haar

The traffic noise used to be constant, at times as thick as the haar, the sea fog that sometimes rolls in here from the North Sea.

[…] westerly haar, which wraps everything up in white wool, and blots out sea and sky, and chokes the depressed wayfarer-not to speak of the penetrating chill which even in June goes down into the marrow of your bones, and makes the[…]

[An] easterly haar was blowing in off the sea, the cold wind bringing with it a thick fog that crawled under the collar and clung to the skin. Ahead, the road disappeared as the fog hid anything on either side of the hedges save for the[…]