Standing there on a street that dropped off into the bay, I don’t know what bay it was and I don’t care, but the bridges laid a soft smoking vertebrae in the distance. Something strong and transparent at the same time. I stood there and said “This is it. I’m living here. I’m coming back to California and I’m living here. In this place. In California. Here.”
But I think the most important thing was being so close to the water, to be standing at the edge of something so beautiful and I couldn’t see the end of it.
Leave a Reply