There’s something about the fog rolling in over and through the Golden Gate Bridge and Johnny Cash that just makes sense. Maybe he wrote a song about the fog rolling in. And if he didn’t, he should have.
On my road trip home from the office, the temperature dropped from 82 degrees in the South Bay to 57 by the time I crossed the bridge. The fog has a way of doing that. I stopped at three different points at the north end of the bridge, on either side (both called Vista Point) and then up Cozumel Road to view the bridge from up above.
And with a tanker bellowing in the wind, I stood there staring at the fog rolling over and into the Golden Gate. It was cold and it was brilliant. The golden hour had a truly majestic view tonight.
I left, happy in my thoughts.
Go Adventure. Go Travel. Go Live.
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