Small Stone: January 4, 2014

Through the years when life was uncertain or plans not clearly made, I would imagine going on a jet to some place that I never had seen. Or, sometimes actually go. Even putting my foot to the pedal on my beloved cars would substitute for that when I was much younger. Today, I saw this marvelous vapor trail…one of several planes leaving San Francisco flying west into the sunset. Life plans are uncertain at the moment. And, I realized that the escape to far away places fantasy is gone.

Small Stone: January 3, 2014

The process of turning gold from a friend’s orange tree in Sonoma into marmalade had a couple of big issues today. First of all, they brought two huge paint buckets full of oranges…after 6 small batches we had about 40 jars and still one bucket full …the photo is what is remaining. A LOT of work, but a lot of fun, too. We laughed and fussed and it was a great day of friends cooperating on a “sweet” project. Sadly, the last batch was on the burner nearly too long…the old Belgian cast iron pot now has a serious patch of burned sugar that is soaking. Most of the jars will be gifts of California “gold” to friends and acquaintances over the next months. A significant portion will be on my toast these winter mornings!

Small Stone: January 2, 2014

Living in the city offers an amazing number of things to be involved in….advocate for raw foods, learn to make money writing, trim the fat at Overeaters Anonymous, volunteer with families in distress, have your energy levels moved around through Reiki, protest circumcision, support low wage workers in the fast food industry, or if it is all simply too much…affordable psychotherapy. And, all of this is available at my neighborhood Laundromat. Lots of choices to start the new year.

Small Stone: January 1, 2014

The weather is astonishingly warm and dry on the first day of 2014 in San Francisco. The past year was the driest on record. A good day for a walk along the waterfront, looking at the old piers, enjoying the many people just enjoying the day. Walking through a passage between piers, I met a colleague/friend and his wife out for their stroll. Serendipity. Then around the next corner, this reflection, so very skewed, in the lightly wavering bay. I wonder if the new year will be as out of shape?

not a time of endings

The frenetic activity of the holidays has no place in the natural order here in the wintered west. The weak light is deeply slanted from the south. Most deciduous trees have shed their leaves and are resting. A range of migratory birds still find the occasional spider or a conifer bursting with seeds awaiting harvest or dispersal. And, the long nights and crisp days encourage a gentle sense of hibernation. The world around me is at rest, gathering silent strength for rejuvenation. Winter is not necessarily a time of endings. Like the conifer, it gives us seeds awaiting spring.

silly season's greetings

I want to send warm and mirthful greetings to everyone for a Merry Christmas. So, I am using last year’s photo of the skinny Santa walking the streets of San Francisco in one of our many outrageous traditions….SantaCon….hundreds, literally hundreds of folks put on some version of a Santa suit and go from store to store, bar to bar, Union Square to the Mission, all the while bringing a light-hearted Christmas spirit to the City.

Nearly the end of the year. Christmas just a couple of days away. Weather unseasonable, desperately dry and not much change expected soon. A few Christmas cookies baked. A few cards sent. A few gifts selected. Not much in the way of traditional decorations. It seems like an un-traditional season for me. Not bad, just not quite the pace of many years, not quite the standard that was generally unmet anyway. And, it seems really fine. Merry Christmas and/or warmest wishes to everyone for whichever holiday you are celebrating at the Solstice!

dancer on the street

The sun was shining brightly. The street was wrapped in a beautiful winter-morning’s cloak. A young woman, actually a girl, ahead of me was dancing from side to side on the urban sidewalk as she moved toward the stoplight. She had a broad smile and seemed to be hearing a tune that I could only imagine. We stood together as the light changed from red to green, she started across Mission Street. Only then did I realize that her dance steps were actually her normal walking pattern. Her spine had formed in such a painful way that she could only walk as a dancer. She crossed the street dancing, with her continuing and lovely smile.

The photo is of beautiful wild flowers that I photographed at Jepson Prairie one Spring. I hope that it is an appropriate remembrance and tribute to the dancer.