Tuesday, February 16, 2010
The fog burns off ... a rust bucket appears
The fog was burning off this morning, after a morning much like the ones we've been having lately. If it's not raining, it is =really= foggy in the morning and then the fog burns off and around 11A or noon we are left with a sunshiney blue day.

I was taking photos of the fog burning off ... the Ferry Building. ... 10:31A

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The SFO Bay Bridge. ... 10:49A

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About an hour later, the fog was mostly gone and one of the old military ships from the mothball fleet in Suisun Bay, near Vallejo, appeared, dragged fore, with two tugs tailing aft, headed to have its barnacles and paint scraped before it's hauled away to be scrapped.

Rust bucket. 11:42A

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Thursday, October 15, 2009
Fog bank. Fog bank. Storm clouds. Sun.
Some people collect cats. I collect clouds.

A series of pictures (untweaked in the slightest) of the fog banks out the window 2 1/2 hrs ago. The clouds have since changed shape and dissipated some. The sun has been shining here throughout.

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TWO banks of fog with a topper of storm clouds in the east, toward Berkeley.


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[As usual, you can click on the photos to get a larger view.]

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Ferry. Fog.
Sunshiney here. Slight breeze.

'twixt me and Yerba Buena Island, though? A belt of fog.

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Friday, May 15, 2009
Morning Fog ... burning off
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Fog photos
I was making pancakes for breakfast for our overnight guest and we were discussing the fog which wunderground.com hadn't mentioned. ... The unexpected fog had settled in close to the water but was starting to lift. Hark! Sunshine in Oakland! Shipping cranes silhouetted in the distance.

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And behind Treasure Island a surreal light enveloped Berkeley.

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Our guest, someone his nibs has known for forty years, headed off to the airport and home. We frittered time and the fog burnt off for a glorious day.

This afternoon I was settled into my comfy chair, working on a Sudoku, when I heard fog horns. Deep horn from the main channel. Medium horn from a ship. Lighter echo from the bridge.

The afternoon fog was creeping in and slouching over to Berkeley.

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A shot before Berkeley succumbed. (The fog tendrils have reached the Campanile as I type this at about 6:45P. The sun is still shining here. But not there. ...)

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: views from the Hill

Bertold Brecht:   
Everything changes. You can make
A fresh start with your final breath.
But what has happened has happened. And the water
You once poured into the wine cannot be
Drained off again.

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