fog horn sounding in the distance

... cable cars rumbling along on their ancient tracks, the gripman dingling the bell as the car nears an intersection. These are the sounds I hear, as I did as a child in my distant past, and amazingly again, as an adult thrown into the events that Life hands us...

The day started overcast but like my little town in southern Spain, the sun burned that off and by noon it was a clear sky and lots of spring-like warmth. Outside for most of the day, it was great for a brisk walk in a thin tee-shirt, if I had my Life alone here. That being not the case, by time I returned in the early afternoon, I was thinking of blinding myself during another sunset.... fog was popping up here and there... Alcatraz was wrapped in fog now, and a few minutes later, it was visible again. I love seeing Alcatraz when the fog lies behind the island, and not in front... it's mysterious that way.... and I enjoy that view.

As the time for the sunset neared, today at 6:43pm, I readied my equipment then drove down busy traffic-filled Lombard Street to the freeway, then up to the bridge where it was smooth sailing up to the fog-encased toll plaza. I cut to the right to get off and to get to the bluffs where I could see the ocean... if that were possible.

I marveled at the sight of the fog as I drove down Lombard.... the fog was as thick as that New England pea soup and perhaps even thicker, and I wished for a looong red light so I could grab the camera and shoot it, but no... the luck of the Irish followed me as usual and it was all green lights all the way....

The sun soon dipped below the level of the fog, and it was a sight to behold: the upper edge of the fog soft but golden by the glorious brightness of the sun... one could watch this, hold a gasp within... then it was gone.

Did anyone else notice this delightful detail of our everyday lives?

No....

I was saddened by that fact, and that I keep myself within a self-constructed cell... unseen but there all the same; a cell that I would love to escape to Spain if I had the means.

Once returned, I saw the thickening fog sweep in strong - it was thick at the bluffs also, with nothing but the beach about 235,2 feet below me could be seen in the silence. The fog came in on quick waves of gray air, and I could actually see the wisps of fog blowing me around me.

Do you see the fog?

from my rooftop, looking toward Telegraph Hill and Coit Tower, the golden spray of sunset extended east

and watching the thin low layer of fog roll in toward the East Bay, layered by the golden stretch of sky above...