The fog

The fog lumbers in on giant St. Bernard paws.

Container ships sound their horns as they maneuver slowly through the water. Basso profondo.

Watch out. 'ware. I can't see you. I'm coming through.

A long echoing blast sounds from the other side of the bay.

Warning. I'm here and moving. Here I am again. Warning.

A third ship sounds. A fourth.

I can see the piers through the fog and can just barely see a ship passing close to the piers. I can just see the end of the bridge as it comes into downtown. Can't see the rest of the bay, the islands.

The bulk of our fog usually turns north toward Vallejo, so the fog in the channels near Alcatraz on the way into and out of the Golden Gate must be really dense.

Time for a walk.