Yellow sunlight attempts to reveal blue sky but it does not last. A crisp white boat slices through the blue water leaving a low white scar. And just beyond is the nemesis fog. Promising to dim what the sun has worked so hard to bring forth. It closes the final curtain on our daylight.
So I wait. And I make a mental note to try to describe all this with words. Try to change fog into words. Paint a picture of a day by the bay with words.
Then, suddenly, the moodiness lifts and it clears to Kodachrome.