Sausalito Ferry
We rose joyful for another day of exploration. Down the hill, Susan and I bought coffee and bread. I heated pads of butter in a black iron skillet then fried white bread in the butter and topped it with sharp cheese and egg.
Down Mission Street today towards Embarqadero. Sunday morning promise on the streets. Shops with doors wide. Yucca roots, waxy brown and creamy white. We missed the bus, and so, tried the BART instead, the banshee subway. The moan of an angel choir. Impermeable sound. Hollow, hot "oohs". I half wanted to cry in wonder and half wanted to yell in terror. I settled for a quick recording on my phone.
I sat on the Sausalito Ferry, astern, and watched the churning water and the pier recede. The Bay Bridge seemed manic, long, jutting, spanning half the bay in two bounds, then linking with some island, and another bridge, and a causeway for the remainder.
In Sausalito, we drank wine at a restaurant overlooking the water, feeling the Bay's expanse. Earth arms open wide, beckoning, promising to embrace me. I felt like I could just fall right into those arms.
The fog rolled in as we regressed. Enveloped in the cloud, I saw the Bay Bridge glow white hot. Liquid silver.
China town window shopping. Then groceries in the Mission District. We drank wine that night before we let go the day and finally surrendered to sleep.
Down Mission Street today towards Embarqadero. Sunday morning promise on the streets. Shops with doors wide. Yucca roots, waxy brown and creamy white. We missed the bus, and so, tried the BART instead, the banshee subway. The moan of an angel choir. Impermeable sound. Hollow, hot "oohs". I half wanted to cry in wonder and half wanted to yell in terror. I settled for a quick recording on my phone.
I sat on the Sausalito Ferry, astern, and watched the churning water and the pier recede. The Bay Bridge seemed manic, long, jutting, spanning half the bay in two bounds, then linking with some island, and another bridge, and a causeway for the remainder.
In Sausalito, we drank wine at a restaurant overlooking the water, feeling the Bay's expanse. Earth arms open wide, beckoning, promising to embrace me. I felt like I could just fall right into those arms.
The fog rolled in as we regressed. Enveloped in the cloud, I saw the Bay Bridge glow white hot. Liquid silver.
China town window shopping. Then groceries in the Mission District. We drank wine that night before we let go the day and finally surrendered to sleep.
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