Hey there, peoples. I'm writing this bundled up like a babe, listening to Donny Hathaway on vinyl, slurping spoonfuls of soup, and fending off the forces of sickness. It's monument gray outside and I should probably be feeling all sorts of miserable.
Thing is, I feel pretty fantastic. Yesterday -- even though I could already feel tendrils of illness creeping up my spine, down into my limbs -- my special ladyfriend and I took a bike ride through Golden Gate Park. It only takes a few minutes to get there from our place. One minute, you're cruising through a neighborhood, bay window after bay window. The next you're whipping down wooded paths, marveling at some exotic bird call that, surely, "... can't be coming from a city park." The air was as stiff and misty then as it is today. But the foggy chill just added to the strange magic that is San Francisco. It was all so fitting. The sunless dampness only helped to make the Park's setting more vivid and wild. And the air itself was tainted with that deep, rich scent that you can only get in a wet forrest. That sort of "oxygen factory" smell that reminds you how nice it is to get away from the cars, cable, and condos, and find yourself a nice patch of green, every now and then.
The best part is, Golden Gate Park -- along with dozens of others -- is IN the city.
Man, I love this place.
ps-- Oh, by the way, we went to The DeYoung Museum, during our ride. Very nice place. Huge observation tower that gives you a 360 degree view of SF. And we saw a bunch of art that ranged from AWESOME to Lamesville. Dig the "neon-faces pointing" piece that I liked a lot, below. You know I couldn't make a post without at least ONE art pic!