Summer

As I wrote last week, San Francisco is not really an autumnal city. Right on cue, summer arrived – at least, the hottest days of the year by a stretch – but not before another smattering of dampness on Friday afternoon last week, as we roamed downtown. A couple of weeks ago people were bowing out of roams due to the air quality, when it was briefly smoky; now it is because of the heat.

I went down to Foster City for a small wedding on Sunday – a couple who had been together ten years already, by the water with their neighbours as witness. It had been pleasant and sunny in the city, but was notably nicer, as usual, even a few miles further south. The temperatures ratcheted up slowly until Wednesday, and seem to be sticking around for a few days. It is nice to go out without worrying about layers.

The stillness and absence of wind is a lovely by-product of these warm weather systems, though it means there is little cooling breeze to be had. Windows were wide open to hear the distant Caltrain whistles, and what seemed like noise from the Central Freeway early in the morning. Also, numerous helicopters capturing footage around Dianne Feinstein’s funeral, and, unfortunately, the blisteringly loud passages of the Blue Angels, which started as I was riding up Market St on Thursday afternoon, coming home a little early so I could lead the Zen Center online sitting group, and continuing as we roamed downtown again on Friday, happy to stick to the shade when it was 90 degrees out; the sound of the planes bounced off the tall buildings, and it was hard to know where it was actually coming from.