With my Moon in Taurus, I’m much more of a homebody than a traveller, but my job requires travel from time to time, often to San Francisco. And, so, while the Magical MidAtlantic will always be my landbase, I’ve worked over the years at developing a relationship with this city, as well. I recently left Washington, D.C.’s 90+ degree heat and landed, at noon, to 65 degrees in San Francisco. In July!
The cab ride from the airport to downtown let me see just how dry everything has gotten although, truth be told, I knew when we flew over the mountains and there was absolutely no snow pack that things were bad. There were some tall, yellow, wild flowers growing at the foot of the foothills as my driver sped along, the bay on my right and and the hills on my left. There were seagulls and parakeets. There were hipsters and businesswomen.
I woke up this morning to the San Francisco fog, which I love. I like fog and mist back home, too, especially when they cover the Potomac River and you can’t tell where the river ends and the sky begins. But the fog in San Francisco isn’t an occasional visitor. It’s an integral part of the landbase. And I’m always happy to see it, to be in it, again.
I drank my coffee and did my morning meditation as the fog slowly rolled away. By noon, the view from the skyscraper where we were meeting was so clear that you could see see past the TransAmerica Pyramid and all the way across the Bay. And, then, by around 4:00 or so, the fog began to roll back in, like a fisherman coming back home from a day on the sea. It takes its time; you can watch it move in, block by block. It makes all the lights, even the car lights, look like gas lamps from Victorian London. And the windows of all the homes on the hills look so warm and inviting; you’re certain there are fun, interesting people in them, drinking good wine and telling good stories.
Somehow, I often seem to wind up here during one or another of the Sabbats. I’ve been here, at different times, for Beltane, and Litha, and Mabon. And, now, I will be here for Lughnasadh. I’m going to spend some time alone with the fog and consider its patience and persistence. Coming and going, coming and going, coming and going. Like a lover who returns over and over to cover and enter a place that it can never resist.
May it be so for you.
Picture found here.