Seldom do I relish the sight of a cold fog wafting over the city. I have nick-names. The nicest is the “fickle finger of fog” and they go down from there.
It’s been hot here – and consider that few here have air conditioning. I tried sleeping on the roof but my back only lasted a couple hours.
Last night it cooled off – and a friend caught some shots of a “fickle finger of fog” wafting over San Francisco City Hall, with a gilded dome and a beacon at the top. The light came through magically.