Once upon a time, in the city by the bay, a curious child named Maya spent her mornings looking out the window, watching the mist roll in. She would run to her grandma and ask her what it was, and her grandma would always say, “It’s the San Francisco fog, my dear.” Maya loved the fog. Sometimes it would create a mysterious and magical aura, and other times it was just a thick blanket of grey haze. As she grew older, Maya started solving crossword puzzles with her grandma, and one day she stumbled upon a clue that read ‘Frequent San Francisco weather phenomenon.‘ Without hesitating, she wrote ‘fog.’ She later asked her grandma if it was right, and her grandma smiled and said, “You’re very clever, my dear. The fog is a part of San Francisco’s identity, and it’s always present, sometimes so frequently that people hardly get a glimpse of the view from the Golden Gate bridge.” From that day on, whenever Maya saw the San Francisco fog, she smiled, knowing that it was an integral part of the city she loved.