One of my most magical bike rides was along Skyline Boulevard on the coast range on the SF Peninsula. It was a summer day as the fog moved in; there was a moderate wind out of the west, pushing clouds from west to east.

In the less densely-forested areas, it was windy and cold, but every time we went through a patch of trees, the wind died down, and it was raining. The way the trees caught the blowing fog meant it was more than the drips you get off of trees some days, but it felt like actual, natural rain. And I imagine on some level it's difficult to truly parse out the difference between which droplets came from fog hitting tree branches, and which were forced out of the cloud by the slowing and densifying moist air as it hit a thick grove of trees.