Small Stones

Somehow, in a fit of madness I suspect, I signed up for writing a small stone (defined at the link just to the left) every day this January. This January in which we move from Foster City, California to Kansas City, Missouri.

This January in which the movers arrive...tomorrow and sweep through the house like a plague of locusts. Let us pray to all that's good and holy that they don't pack up the cats!

This January when I take leave of my senses, take leave of Foster City, and drive 1,800 miles East.

This January.

My small stone for today was:

The moon, bright, white, shines down on a lake made blue and rose in the dawn of a new year.

It may be found in the comments on this post. 

I shall miss the lake. And friends. And the Bay Area. And Silicon Valley. And the San Francisco Symphony. And San Francisco itself.

Let I look forward to the Midwest. To other friends who've become dear over the past 19 years. To Kansas City that I've watched change in glimpses every Christmas over the same near-two decades.

And maybe, who knows, I may become part of Silicon Prairie now that Google is busy wiring the place with fiber. And yes, they've (whoever "they" may be) begun calling a portion of the Midwest "Silicon Prairie."

As I was walking down...

There is an advantage to not visiting the City each day - you get the chance to see it with fresh eyes every time. A different perspective to those who live there - or who journey there every day.

Even mundane annoyances like Muni breaking down before reaching my station at the Embarcadero become, on a rare visit to the City, a pleasure. The air was clear, the sky cloudless, the early morning sun holding the promise of warmth.

Palm trees lined the street and curved away along the Embarcadero as I walked, looking around tourist-like, towards Market Street. The Bay Bridge, the sun behind it washing out all details, stood gray against the blue of sky and water, arcing over the Bay from San Francisco to Yerba Buena island. The eastern span was lost in the light to my dazzled Irish eyes.

Joggers loped by the waterside, off to my right towards Fisherman's Wharf, perhaps as far as the Marina. I wished them well on their way in the cool of the early morning.

Around me the city was awake, tides of people flowing along its arteries, each to his or her place. I let the tide wash over me. There was time. A day-long conference, breakfast would be provided.

I have often said that I like the fact that I've never really lived within a city. I've always lived with one nearby, within reach. Dublin, Geneva, London, San Francisco. Paris was three hours away by train and, while I dearly love that city, that was too far to call "nearby".

San Francisco, on such a day as dawned yesterday, well...it made me wonder what it would be like to wake up within such a city.

For this reason, Kansas City represents something new. There, we will be within the city itself. I look forward to a change in viewpoint.

--o0o--

In other news, yesterday turned out to be the birthday of two new first cousins (once removed) of mine. So, greetings Zoe and Emily. Glad you made it safely.

And welcome.