My jet-lagged, back window view
Jun. 4th, 2003 06:06 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gordonzolaOh, jet lag.
Wide awake at 3 AM after passing out at 8 PM. I’ll try and avoid cliches, and it may be an inauspicious return to the land of LJ, but I do love being up and awake while the rest of the city sleeps. I don’t think that even my housemates know how much I enjoy sitting in the dark looking out our big back window when I can’t sleep at night.
I’ll never get tired of watching the fog roll in. It was what I missed the most really about living in upstate New York for the few years that I did. Well, that and a nearby ocean, sourdough bread, and my beloved California accents.
When the fog comes in fast like it’s doing tonight it’s like a monster movie or art film time lapse photography, except it’s real life. I’ve been timing it tonight. Only about 30 seconds to go by the entire bay window. Very apocalyptic. Or something.
I’m kneeling backwards on my couch, looking into the back yards of 3-story subdivided Victorians* like the one I live in. The only lights on are institutional: The old folks home down the block, the US Mint just up the hill, the ‘50s red Safeway sign on Market and the straight lines of streetlights. The wind is blowing the trees hard. If you didn’t know summer in San Francisco, you’d swear it was a winter storm. The fog is pinkish and the small circles of sky that become visible as the fog moves are navy blue/gray. This is a city, there are no stars. But who needs ‘em with all this ?
Must try and go back to sleep . . . .
*Most likely they’re Edwardians, but that just doesn’t sound as good.
Wide awake at 3 AM after passing out at 8 PM. I’ll try and avoid cliches, and it may be an inauspicious return to the land of LJ, but I do love being up and awake while the rest of the city sleeps. I don’t think that even my housemates know how much I enjoy sitting in the dark looking out our big back window when I can’t sleep at night.
I’ll never get tired of watching the fog roll in. It was what I missed the most really about living in upstate New York for the few years that I did. Well, that and a nearby ocean, sourdough bread, and my beloved California accents.
When the fog comes in fast like it’s doing tonight it’s like a monster movie or art film time lapse photography, except it’s real life. I’ve been timing it tonight. Only about 30 seconds to go by the entire bay window. Very apocalyptic. Or something.
I’m kneeling backwards on my couch, looking into the back yards of 3-story subdivided Victorians* like the one I live in. The only lights on are institutional: The old folks home down the block, the US Mint just up the hill, the ‘50s red Safeway sign on Market and the straight lines of streetlights. The wind is blowing the trees hard. If you didn’t know summer in San Francisco, you’d swear it was a winter storm. The fog is pinkish and the small circles of sky that become visible as the fog moves are navy blue/gray. This is a city, there are no stars. But who needs ‘em with all this ?
Must try and go back to sleep . . . .
*Most likely they’re Edwardians, but that just doesn’t sound as good.
