...I miss San Francisco.
Now, I know what you're thinking -- "Of course you miss living in California, it was -20 at your house this week." Yes, indeed it was; but, the weather has nothing to do with my longing. In fact, San Francisco's weather made me yearn for a change in climate. I felt off-kilter, living in seasonal stability. I need the reminder that there are fresh starts, second chances, and boxes of wool sweaters to unpack. It isn't going to be 55°F forever...at least not now. Now? I'll have some -20 days. Thank God.
In San Francisco, there was no packing away of "summer clothes" and no unpacking of "winter clothes" --- instead, there were raincoats. And, umbrellas.
And, soppy bus stops....
But amid the fog's perpetual wintering on the peninsula, there were satsumas, dragons, and luck. Returning west from holidays back home, I went philosophically east and always looked forward to this second new year. The Sunset District glowed orange with predictions and promises. It was refreshingly resolutionless. For...who can argue with the gods' dispensation of fate?
"You cannot prevent the birds of sadness from passing over your head, but you can prevent their making a nest in your hair."
~ Chinese Proverb
And thus I will argue. I will fight fate...
I will fight by making a nest before the birds can do it for me. My own little domestic war, weaving twigs of expectations and roles and titles into something so strange it is familiar, and fits perfectly...even, if a bit on the hairy side.
Acorn squash have always reminded me of bird's nests, and with this thought I don't fight. Tonight, I let it go broody...