First the heat, then the fog

Ghosts, that's what the fog sometimes reminds me of. Trees creak and groan, the air is misty, and everyone seems to disappear. Running through it is so invigorating. The weather is big and San Francisco seems to go back to its roots. I'm reminded of boats crashing into the shoreline, forts being built and deserted, landfill placed on top of all of those abandoned boats. Maybe it's the ghosts that spur my imagination, maybe it's the weather, but I get lost on these runs and before I know it, I'm back into the present day San Francisco, feeling great from a long misty run.