I often get awestruck comments about the blue skies in my photographs, but I'm going to let you in on a grubby little San Francisco secret. It can be really cold here in the summer. Our maritime microclimate brings a bone chilling fog, which managed this past week to make us the coldest city in the Northern Hemisphere. Colder than Anchorage. Or Leningrad. The stores down at fisherman's wharf must have sold a lot of cable car emblazoned fleece hoodies this summer.
When summer hits the city we flee to the mountains. On a Friday, tired and not in the mood for packing up the car for the 180 mike drive, I question whether it is worth it. It seems like such an effort. We ask ourselves the sane question as a chunk of change sufficient to send us all to Hawaii gets sucked out of the bank account ever month
Then we have a weekend like this. When I fill with pride and love watching my little girl learn to swim with her dad. When I marvel at the kindness of a little boy, about seven years old, playing with my son all afternoon in the sand, patiently letting him 'help' with a sand creation of great complexity.
I've heard that the greatest gift you can give to your kids is a happy childhood. Every weekend we spend up there I feel as if we are living in a perfect childhood memory. I hope the kids feel it too, because if they do it is worth every penny.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone on the drive home