There mere thought of moving, and all I can think about is not living on Bernal Hill. I can roll out of bed, drag myself up some stairs and dance in the mist.
This morning, I couldn't see the rooftops below, the entire city shrouded in a gentle mist. It wasn't quite fog, a Bernal version of the Sutro Soup. Quick run, get the heart rate up and off to see the day.