I got off work early (or I guess on time) and let my feet make the decisions. They were hungry for movement and my eyes feasted as well — on gleaming big windows, on wide streets with tall buildings — columns, stucco, lampposts, brick, balconies, doors and bay windows…
I’m entering a new kind of happiness — where many struggles are beginning to pay off; not in really big ways, just in ways that un-shoulder my burdens one at a time and leave me standing taller and taller each day. I’m helpless, helpless, helpless to the brightness of spring carrying me away; lifting me up steep hills; breathless before the April winds that blow hair from my eyes and brings in the coastal fog. All around me are castles of stone and brick — so different from my wood and stucco Victorians (beautiful and historical in their own right, but so familiar to me). This is history I don’t see every day, and I can marvel anew at the pillars and spirits that hold them up. At the top of the hill the Mark Hopkins is all beaux-arts and ornamentation; it gleams money and taste, and its many windows catch all the last of the departing light and holds it tight; it fills them to bursting and the glow expands outward as a beacon at the very top of the hill and with each step I feel I’m ascending to nirvana but the higher I get the further the light slips away from me, the fog sweeping in over and under it, and its cold touch tastes of so much eagerness I can’t deny it and for these last minutes I just stand in the last of the light and let the elements do to me what they will.
See the gate to Chinatown at Bush and Grant
Have a macaron in Union Square
Drink a craft cocktail at Benjamin Cooper
Eat sushi at Sakana
Take in a show at Biscuit & Blues
So many thanks to my partner in crime and blog muse — the wonderful Annie Montgomery for capturing these shots of me here.
Happy spring dear readers!