Quiet today here in Malibu. PCH, the Pacific, even the new neighbors with the yappy dog, quiet today. The fog's rolling in the way it does in the fall, a thick bank of white stuff advancing off the ocean. Hard to photograph but here goes. It's my favorite moment, when something about warm and cool, moist and dry shreds the fog, sends threads of it snaking down the streets, wraithlike and muffled.