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Of land and geography
Jun. 27th, 2008 10:35 amThe sun hasn't really been out this past week. Instead, we have a glowing orange dot in the sky, obscured by haze. The unceasing winds are pushing fog from the west and smoke from everywhere else. The haze has been so bad that I can't see the hill that faces mine most mornings. The smoke is so bad that even the Embarcadero smells of it.
The chill and fog isn't a shock to San Franciscans who know what our summers are like, but the tourists are wandering around in a cold daze, bundled up in the fleeces they bought from a Chinatown shop.
My run this morning took me past the wharf, and I smelled the base smell of beaches - brine, rotting fish, wet sand and wood. A reminder of the ocean that's just over a few hills from me.
California isn't only blessed with gorgeous geography, it's also blessed with geologic activity. Earthquakes, fires, landslides, floods - sometimes I wonder if this is the gods' playground, and they want it back. Then I remember Alaska, and having to keep an eye on the fires that would surround my town, and I'm reminded that it's simply that our land is young and as yet untamed. It's easy to lose track of the land, in a city. The land, however, never loses track of us.
The chill and fog isn't a shock to San Franciscans who know what our summers are like, but the tourists are wandering around in a cold daze, bundled up in the fleeces they bought from a Chinatown shop.
My run this morning took me past the wharf, and I smelled the base smell of beaches - brine, rotting fish, wet sand and wood. A reminder of the ocean that's just over a few hills from me.
California isn't only blessed with gorgeous geography, it's also blessed with geologic activity. Earthquakes, fires, landslides, floods - sometimes I wonder if this is the gods' playground, and they want it back. Then I remember Alaska, and having to keep an eye on the fires that would surround my town, and I'm reminded that it's simply that our land is young and as yet untamed. It's easy to lose track of the land, in a city. The land, however, never loses track of us.
