Sunday, November 25, 2007
san francisco days...
I didn't go home for the holidays. I was home for the holidays. And Hayes Valley was crowded with those shoppers from both home and away. I didn't shop for anything nonessential, nor did I get to the shows or movies I thought I would. Instead, I read some, and talked to my siblings on the phone. I wrote a bit, and played a bit, and listened to the latest Shawn Colvin CD and strung up Christmas lights outside my window and gazed down at it all. A Christmas Tree lot was being constructed at the corner of Linden and Octavia, the workers laughing and eating Fruit Loops between hammering wooden bases. Fashionistas in high, high heels clattered by, shopping bags hanging from delicate wrists, wondering aloud at which of the four different places you can get good to great coffee on our block would be best. I grabbed mine from Cafe La Vie and ran into Greg, another writer I'd met at Mat's Thanksgiving (we were mostly writers, journalists, editors, musicians or some combination thereof at that gathering) and found he lived a block away. Some visitors from Boulder randomly decided I was the one to ask for directions to Union Square. Being reminded of Boulder reminded me that was the place I first saw Colvin play and became a fan, and how Saturdays living in Colorado used to mean one of two things 1) a bike race or a 2) hike up a mountain. Was that me who used to do these things? It reminded me to get my self on terre quickly and in SF that means, to me, the ocean, the beach.
The ocean, the ocean, the ocean, my inspiration when all else fails.
I hadn't been to Ocean Beach since the spill. But the ocean didn't look dirty yesterday. No, it was gray and curling gracefully, its incoming tide receded a bit so the sand was flat and shiny. Moody, definitely, but not stormy. Many many surfers were bobbing in the surf and/or appraising where to put in from the sand. Sanderlings, those little white birds of perpetual curiosity, where running back and forth along the sand. The ocean didn't look oily or dirty, it looked beautiful and reminded me regeneration is possible, always, when nature gets to run its true course.