Changing Time

I am writing this on the first evening after the clocks go back. In England we talk about the end of ‘Summer Time’; happily in San Francisco, summer’s lease has been extended even into the first days of November. We may not have had a repeat of last October’s late heatwave, but there has been a wonderful (and for me, deeply nourishing) succession of sunny warm days, with very little of the wind that blows off the Pacific for much of the year. Life feels good, even if my sleep has been erratic this past week (and if this post feels a little too simplistically positive, tomorrow’s will offer a counterweight).

In the past couple of weeks, commuting back from the East Bay around 6pm, the golden sun has been setting behind the tall buildings of downtown San Francisco, and radiant clouds have sat above the city. On Saturday morning, continuing to try to get my riding legs back after the long lay-off, I was heading through the Presidio when the sun started to reach the tree-tops, and as I crossed the bridge, the rising sun was beaming from behind the same buildings; the shadow of the roadway stretched almost horizontally across the water-facing slopes of the Headlands.

Re-reading the post I linked to above, that is almost exactly a year old, I couldn’t help but chuckle at my repeated propensities: this past Friday I had also run to Glen Canyon, and then improvised a way back that took me over the top of Diamond Heights – with a new-to-me view of downtown from Goldmine Hill, as the light started to become less intense, and on Sunday I rode to San Bruno Mountain, struggling somewhat on the slopes, but enjoying the views clear across the city and the bay from the summit, a grip of mist across the Golden Gate.

DSCF4209.jpgLate afternoon sun across Lobos Creek, at the end of the roam to Marshall Beach on Sunday.

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