San Francisco in the summer is underrated. Yes, for five summers I lived in the humid, bug-laden eden of Nerd Camp and perhaps I always wished to be home with friends instead of stuck in the library and in class on the 4th of July. However, there’s something charming about summertime fog rolling in over the Bridge in the early afternoon. It smells like heaven. I can’t explain it, I don’t think.
When I first moved to San Francisco in 1999, I lived out in the Avenues where fog resided every day. When I jumped off the bus from downtown, I passed by the Boudin Sourdough factory. The smell of fog and warm sourdough, yes, two San Francisco staples, really bring me comfort.
Today, while pumping gas in the Marina, I was so chilled that I groped for a sweater in Continue reading