Thank you, fog

Fog @ first daylight, photo by author, August 22, 2026.

Fog, how did I get so lucky? That there’s both cause and effect, a wonderful time of the year in San Francisco, the equal of summer.

I just had the thought of opening my new yellow metal folding chair from IKEA and putting it outside on wooden deck to enjoy the sunrise. Not a bad idea, but much too early and not at all practical. I did it anyway, having the dream of taking my cup of hot coffee outside and drinking it in the drizzle.

What could go wrong with my dream? Not much. I’d sit in the fog and read Nietzsche, “The Genealogy of Morals” and drink coffee. I’d begin at the beginning, the preface—

We are unknown to ourselves, we knowers: and for good reason. We have never sought ourselves—how then should it happen that we find ourselves one day? It has been rightly said: “where your treasure is, there will your heart be also”; our treasure is where the beehives of our knowledge stand. We are forever underway toward them, as born winged animals and honey-gatherers of the spirit, concerned with all our heart about only one thing—”bringing home something”.

Does it seem pretentious to be reading Nietzsche? I suppose it does and I suppose I am.

And thank you fog for being foggy.