I'm north again. I came to have some meetings and attend wordcamp. I'm honestly not sure why I'm attending wordcamp. I think it was just an excuse to get me up here again, although it's been great seeing peeps and getting the wordcampy lowdown. The weather is gorgeous. It is windy and cool. I'm not used to this cool undertone. I've missed the wind.
The city seems so empty. Where are all the people. It seems so relaxed and laid back. Almost like a small town. Why do I see it like this? Was it like this before? Am I remembering differently? Or has it changed? Or have I changed? Am I uptight again? One-track focused speeding at the speed of light? (Oh yes, most definitely I am moving at the speed of light.)
I just returned from a midnight ride to the east bay (and back). The freeways are the way I remembered. Those grooves I carved so long ago, still there. I was able to slip back into them. And at the same time, the grooves were not the same.
I spent many hours on the bay bridge. Mostly when the toll was a mere buck (it's $4 now! yikes!). I realized as I was speeding back to SF tonight, that I'm carving a new groove. That that's the reason I'm back in SF. To carve this new groove. It's going to take some time - I will be back. But there's always a bushwhacker that paves the way for the trail, that eventually becomes a dirt road, a paved freeway, an information superhighway to infinity (and beyond).
San Francisco, I am soaking up your sweet wind, your little puffy clouds of fog, your live oak and hills of green. I am a sponge. The desert, we need these reminders, we need your shower of information rain.