The following is a conversation that happens regularly in our house:
Me: “Hey Thomas, I’m heading out for a short walk to get some fresh air, I’ll be back in 20 minutes.”
Thomas: “Ok, see you in an hour.”
Me: “No really, I’ll be back in 20 minutes.”
Thomas: “You say this every time, and I just don’t believe you anymore.”
*Me, one hour later, finding myself halfway across the city* “Fuck.”
But, besides instilling a lack of trust with my own husband – which, fine, is probably pretty important – I regret nothing about the hours I spend wandering around San Francisco. I am getting to know this city slowly, walk by meandering walk, giving myself time to get lost and take pictures and notice things I wouldn’t notice if I were speeding by on my bike or in a rush on my way to work.
There are so many wonderful things you’ll notice, so many streets and small houses with beautiful gardens you didn’t know existed, so many small displays of love between mothers and sons, partners out to dinner, children playing in parks.
I want to say that the more time I spend in this city, the more I love it… but that’s not quite true. It’s more like… the more time I spend in this city, the more I feel attached to it, the more I feel protective of it and its people.
Sometimes I think that if every tech bro (sorry, had to say it) got out of his door-to-door Uber from his office in FiDi to his house in the Marina once in a while, a lot of things about this city might change for the better.
Ah, crap, I’ve found myself ranting again. Anyway, here are some pictures of last evening’s walk:
