About a week ago, I was in San Francisco, CA. I was in the sunshine state (that's California, right?) at the end of February, which is notorious for being the time of the year with some of the shittiest weather. It was amazing.
You see, I've grown up my entire life in the Midwest. With the exception of one or two small incursions out west, I've always been in the smack-dab middle of the US. So I've never had the chance to experience things like warm weather and hospitable strangers. It was refreshing. Everywhere I went, there was at least some semblance of a smile or at the very least a warm greeting. I sometimes felt that I was the butt of some joke, where everyone was just pretending to be nice to me. But there was not climactic reveal at the end of the trip nor was there any sort of fakeness to what I saw, so I'll choose to believe that CA just kicks serious ass.
It was 65 degrees and sunny the first day we went exploring. There was grass in a park: lush, living, green grass. I rolled around in it and put a flower in my hair.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
2 comments:
The last paragraph makes me happy.
p.s. You should probably update more often.
Post a Comment