If you have been reading this blog for any length of time, you will know of my preference for warmth and sunshine. I sometimes wonder if this is entirely shallow of me, while suspecting that it may actually be a source of deep nourishment.
This week has been a case in point, with the temperatures rising steadily in the city, and last week’s onset of chill rather forgotten about. The last couple of days have even been balmy before sunrise, and shimmeringly warm after dark. Heading up to Wilbur today, I expect even warmer during next couple of days, though I know the nights will be much colder.
I was working alone in the East Bay this week, which allowed me to start earlier than usual (I know that is not normally the way it goes, but it suits my schedule better). I got off the BART early, at West Oakland, each day, and rode for twenty mintues down the mostly quiet streets into the low morning sun. On Tuesday evening my attempts to get home early were scuppered: after a stop-start BART ride through Oakland, we were told that the Transbay tunnel was completely closed (it transpired there had been a debris fire), and that no trains were going through to San Francisco. People jumped off at West Oakland; I tried to picture a scenario where getting my bike on a bus going over the undoubtedly packed Bay Bridge would be worth the effort, and then had the idea of checking the ferry schedule. It worked out nicely – I rode over joined the line, which doubled in length by the time we all got on board. I hadn’t taken this particular ferry in years (in early days at Zen Center, it was an occasional treat to rumble down Market on the F train, and catch the ferry over to Oakland to attend a relaxed Sunday jazz matinee at Yoshi’s before a similarly relaxed journey on the way home), and others seemed to be trying it for the first time; there was a feeling of camaraderie and adventure, and conditions as the sun set could not have been more gorgeous. The only thing that prevented me from completely relaxing into the experience was knowing I would have to ride up Market with no lights, which I don’t like to do – though mostly I was immersed in the commuter crowd of bikes, and felt very safe. A journey that usually takes forty-five minutes had taken two and a half hours…
Two weeks on from returning from England, I still don’t feel entirely caught up; last weekend was mostly taken up with a wedding. This one was the opposite of the one the previous weekend. Then I had ridden my bike down to the beach, and managed to get all the participants in one photo. This one involved driving up to San Rafael (in the middle of Friday rush hour, though since I was giving one bridesmaid and two musicians a ride in my rental car, at least we qualified as a car-pool) for the rehearsal, and on to Novato for the rehearsal dinner, then back to San Rafael at lunch-time on Saturday. Both days ended up as late nights for me, and there was a lot of socialising happening, with more than 150 people in attendance, so I was wiped out on Monday. But it was all very sweet and romantic, as my former house-mate and her beau were both tying the knot for the first time, to the seeming relief and delight of the many old friends in attendance.
A huge spread for the wedding in San Rafael, for which conditions were perfect.
The ceremony timing allowed for photographs in the last of the sunlight.
There were petals everywhere – these around the wedding cake.
Leaving Oakland on the ferry on Tuesday evening.
Crossing under the Bay Bridge.
And heading towards San Francisco as the sun went down.