This evening a friend and I walked to the top of the hill in my neighborhood to watch the sun set. Instead, we watched it disappear into the autumn fog.
It's a remarkable thing, the fog in autumn in San Francisco. It rolls in on the wind and piles fast and heavy and high like an avalanche until everything is cloaked in a quiet ocean of cotton. And far off, unseen ships sail home on the steady rhythm of fog horns.
Some people complain about the fog in San Francisco in autumn. I am made to believe that those people did not come from the East.