Down at Baker Beach, dense mist swirled slowly over the water. Fishing boats signalled each other with their horns as they passed each other while the Golden Gate Bridge fog horns blared and boomed in the background. The sound of the waves crashing on the shore seemed unnaturally loud in the muffled air.
James was fascinated. He's never been in a thick fog near the Bay before like this. He said the foghorns sounded like they they were talking with each other, and we had fun trying to imitate their hooting conversations.
This week we are going to try James going by himself to the therapy session. I will be sitting in the waiting room, finishing my coffee, and enjoying the foggy morning.