It's summer in Baghad by the bay. The fog is fickle and the heat is sometimes hot. You never know what to wear. The Sun usually comes out about noon and only stays for a few hours; and then the fog comes in, heavy like blanket to cover the hills. Given the right conditions, the fog floats just above the towers of the Golden Gate Bridge.

 It's like having air conditioning without paying for it; it's natural and free. A few days during the summer--a San Francisco summer-- the "air conditioning" breaks down and the city by the bay seems like desert. Whew! I can't stand it when it gets too hot; when high pressure sits and spins just off the coast. It like the devil is blowing its' hot breath on San Francisco. The fog becomes a stranger. The sewers start to smell. The air is stagnant and refuses to remove the pollutants and foul smell that whiffs up from the openings on most street corners.

I can't wait 'til the fog comes back. I love San Francisco summers!