Golden Gate Bridge and Flowers at Fort Baker Point

The Edge of Paradise

Today the fog came blasting in from the Pacific Ocean. I walked down to Fort Baker to shoot and found the wind so strong out on the jetty that I seriously thought if it got any worse, I would have to get down on my hands and knees and crawl back to the car. But when I turned and walked sideways, I caught less wind resistance and didn’t feel like I was going to be blown off the jetty and into the bay. This was fierce wind!

Yeah, it was awesome!

I then wanted to shoot a time lapse, but I didn’t have my heavy tripod. My normal tripod, which I had in the car, wouldn’t have stood up at all in this wind. The roiling fog/cloud formations would have made a sensational time lapse.

When I left, the entire area was almost as dark as night in the thick fog cover.

Here are some of today’s shots. (Click any shot to see a larger version of it.)

Heaven Approaches a Golden Field (Fog Approaches at Fort Baker Point)

Golden Gate Bridge Engulfed in Dense Fog

Here Comes Heaven at Fort Baker (Fog Approaches)

Golden Gate Bridge and Flowers at Fort Baker Point

Windblown Tim
Back in the car, but bundled in two jackets and blown every which way...

Want to hear the wind? Click the play button below. Unfortunately you mostly just hear the clanking of the boat riggings and not the high pitched whistling of the wind blasting through the sailboat’s masts, ropes, and wires. Still, it worth a few seconds. At least listen until you hear the Golden Gate’s fog horns.

Audio Podcast Play Button

One thought on “The Edge of Paradise”

  1. Beautiful, stunning pictures . . . remind me of a poem by Shuntaro Tanikawa:

    Being Alive

    Being alive
    Being alive, now
    That is being thirsty
    That is the glare of the sunlight
    That is the sudden remembrance of a melody
    That is sneezing
    That is holding hands with you

    Being alive
    Being alive, now
    That is a miniskirt
    That is a planetarium
    That is Johann Strauss
    It is Picasso
    It is the Alps
    That is meeting everything beautiful,
    and carefully shaking off the evil hidden away in it.

    Being alive
    Being alive, now
    That is being able to cry
    That is being able to laugh
    That is being able to be angry
    That is freedom

    Being alive
    Being alive, now
    That is somewhere out there a dog is barking now
    That is the earth is spinning now
    That is somewhere out there are someone’s first cries
    That is somewhere out there a soldier is in pain now
    That is somewhere out there empty-swings sway back and forth now
    And now, now is gone

    Being alive
    Being alive, now
    That is a bird fluttering its wings
    That is the waves drifting in and out
    That is the snail crawling on the ground
    That is people loving one another
    The warmth of your hand
    That is giving me life

Comments are closed.