San Francisco vignettes

Morning cleaners spray down the empty sidewalks, the distant echo of seagulls and the close chatter of birds fill my ears. The azure sky brilliant over the fresh morning. A glint of steel flashes across the my face as an elder Japanese man in Yuerba Buena park practices Tai Chi routines with a 3' sword. Is that even legal?

Night time in Concord. The sun is setting and the sky is coloring through shades of orange, red and green showering a glow on the barren and pine spotted hills. It's a beauty lost on a man alone, no shared eyes or minds to celebrate and share the gift.

Sipping drinks at sidewalk seating, watching the world go by is one of life's pleasures. I've sat on Newbury Street in Boston, I've sat at pub tables in London, I've luxuriated in cafes in Paris and this morning I sit at Cafe Expresso at the corner of Powell and Sutter in San Francisco. It's a Italian style cafe with Parisian style seating on the sidewalk. I sit in shadow as the sun casts its angled light on the passing cable cars, passengers photographing me like a zoo animal. Tourists and businessmen make their angled way up Powell towards me by the red draped entrance to the Sir Francis Drake as if the curtain has opened for their daily show. It's five minutes to eight. Almost time to make my entrance too.
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