Twin Peaks

The best way to start a day in San Francisco is to hike up one of its hills to get a bird’s view of the city. I decided on Twin Peaks and looking up from the Vista point I was welcomed with that classic San Francisco view: fog rolling in from the ocean, routed by a fierce wind, beheading all things small and tall in its course.

Lonely cyclist up on a hill

I love fog and the way it plays you, giving you the world one moment only to take it away the next, closing in on you and narrowing your view to what it wants you to see, like this lonely cyclist. What does a cyclist do up on a windy and foggy hill? Why did he bring his bike all the way up? He has got a bike lock in his hand. He could have left it down and climbed the hill unburdened.
Yes, fog inspires.

Into the teeth of the wind

But it is the wind that really gets me going. A southern breeze? You can find me outside. A northwesterly force 10? Right. I am outside. Even as a child I could not resist the wind. Whenever my mother could not find me, she only had to check the old pollarded limes in our garden. Were the tops swaying in the wind, she knew she could find me on the roof, face into the teeth of the wind.
Wind liberates the mind.