i didn't take many pictures in San Francisco this time
listening to the sounds of the city
the glory of foghorns
parrots around t-hill
the whirr of humming birds' wings
the slow drift of the fog
the espresso machine as it unleashes my Africano into the glass
at Cafe Trieste
two older men address each other lovingly in Italian
i sipped my coffee
thought about friendship
and how much certain friendships mean to me
while reading "World enough and Time"
a book i was introduced to by my friends John + Patsy Sangster
on Lopez Island.
i may make this book compulsory reading
for all workshop attendees.
after coffee i headed north.
i could simply have driven up the Interstate 5
it doesn't go anywhere near the edge.
i love the edge
i took the 101
which took me through Fortuna
and past this magical old cinema
i took this photo for my friend Shelley
i wanted to build a fort for her
it was really really cold.
so i went wandering instead
i began to fill my pockets with stones
having a vague plan in my mind
to use them in Portland
looking down at my pinny
with its bulging pockets
i remembered that somebody
[contemporary of Virginia Woolf ? or other rejected lover somewhere?]
sewed stones into her dress
and then walked into a river
it would be so easy to do in a place like this
in the fog
footprints would soon be awash
the continental shelf drops away in moments
that was not something i was about to do
the water was far too cold
and i am enjoying the wild ride of this adventure we call 'life'
far too much
then a figure emerged from the fog
wandered over, making greeting noises
showed me a handful of exquisite polished stones
pulled from a pocket
fished one out
and gave it to me saying
"take this one, it's a lovely amber colour and have a good day"
the stone looked like a piece of cold honey
reminding me of the eyes of a friend
[they are like those of a wolf]
honey coloured unless sparkling with excitement
when they suddenly turn green
i was already having a good day
but that reminder made it even better
later i saw mollis azaleas
growing right beside the ocean
in Australia these plants are mollycoddled
and protected. otherwise they shrivel in the hot north winds.
here they grow like weeds. sigh.
wandering further north
i found evidence of my people
i left a mark of my own
and now i am in Portland
for six weeks.