The Bridge

My feet slip in the loose soil at the edge of the slope. I steady myself quickly: it would be quite a fall, tumbling down through the scrub brush, over and over to land at the spot where Kim Novak once dove into the water in the movie Vertigo. The wind whistles through my ears as I turn, shading my eyes against the westering sun and gaze, through the elegant arches of the bridge and out into the Pacific. I understand now why they called it golden gate. At this time of day at least, the water is in fact a shimmering expanse of gold which reaches out past the horizon and blends indistinguishably with the sky.

Creepy Clouds

They mass up at the crowns of the tree-cloaked hills on 280 going South to San Jose. On my left I cannot see over the hulking shoulders of the hills and the grass is dry and dead, startlingly gold where I am used to the rolling green of Virginia. To my left, the trees spread out, rising up and down with the lay of the land. The thick blankets of cloud ooze over the summits, falling in graceful curtains of fog, tinged purple and gold by the sunset, behind me and slightly to the left. A doomsday preacher van, bearing a crucifix and graffiti proclaiming the sins of the world drives by. Sean speeds up to draw alongside so I can take a picture of the orange-gold flames mingling with words. It is quite striking. But not as striking as the clouds as they fall, tumbling in close clusters, creeping over the hills which line the coast.

On the Road

As my hair blew in a frantic mass around my head in the passenger seat of Edward's convertible, the road unfolded in terrifying curves in front of us. All around, stretching up to meet the crystalline blue of the sky stood crumpled golden hills. Wind-twisted green trees bedecked their shoulders, leaning out precariously, far above. Occasionally in the dip of a hillside gully, there would be a house, tucked away in the dead grasses, bare to the sky.

The smell of life, eucalyptus trees, and sweet flowers rose in my nostrils and I leaned back, feeling drunk and giddy from the odor, the coursing of the wind and the tightly controlled speed of the car as it ate up every curve and mile of the road. The freedom of the moment, made me want to laugh out loud and never stop. Strains of music from the radio: Bob Seger's "Night Moves" ... the Doobie Brothers' "Black Water" and other great old tunes wrapped up the envelope of "On the Road" feeling ... footlose and fancy-free, if only for a short time.

Can You Show Me the Way to San Jose ...

The sun peeks in through the half-drawn curtains and wakes me as surely as the persistent "ding-ding" of the trolley cars (or rather the "light rail") in the street below. I push back the covers and pad across the plush carpet of the swank hotel room and look down. Eleven storeys down, the people are like tiny dolls moving through the plaza and the train is a distant concept. The view out to the hills is spectacular and I have trouble understanding the scope of the city. It is so much more spread out than most of the cities that I am accustomed to.

Much later as I walk to dinner with my friend Josef I admire the wide streets but am surprised by the quiet, almost sleepy quality of the town. While not as laid back perhaps, as Berkeley, I can't quite get used to ambling rather than striding, moseying rather than rushing. I guess it's then that I realize that what people say about the East Coast is probably true and I ponder the differences in perspective that people have, living in different places.

Leaving on a Jet Plane ...

An electrical failure holds up the plane, but finally we pull up, up and away. The plane turns and turns again, circles San Jose. I watch the city become smaller and smaller. Since I walked around a fair bit, I am able to discern patterns in the streets fairly quickly. I find First and my eye travels to the intersection with South Market and there, tiny already, is the hotel and I have a strange feeling of being both inside and outside of myself. I see the pool where I took a quick dip to relax spasming back muscles and wonder if anyone is lying in it now, staring up at the sky and watching me slowly, fly away.