Black sand still between my toes. For a last farewell to the city, I went running along Ocean Beach. I had not planned on that, especially since it had been raining the whole day. But when the rain stopped, I felt a "now or never" moment. I unpacked the sneakers from the suitcase and took the streetcar to the Ocean. There had to be a last enthusiastic good-bye. I thought running would express that.It was a very special mood at the Ocean. An after-rain ease and bright light towards the Western horizon. The dark purple clouds were still hanging over the beach, but had lost their thews to make it rain more. So I ran, for the last hour before sunset (I should mention I am a very slow "runner"). I picked up a weird, beautiful seashell. When I wanted to rinse it, I was said hello by an underestimated waive, i.e. my shoes were under water. They would now squak.
I was there when the sun set. It was not visible (it usually dips into the water, right there), but the clouds would get just a little rose. The beach was dipped into warm light, and the high clouds gave it an almost artificial, tent-like atmosphere. Then it got dark, and the winds started blowing again.
Now, I am back home. Packing, feeling weird. I had my last imported "Sonntagssuppe" (Sunday soup) from Maggi. The sneakers are sitting on a garbage-can-phone book-tower-arrangement in front of the heater, so they can dry out before going on their suitcase-trip tomorrow. To San Diego.
So. That was it. I am most thankful for a wonderful time, in the Inner Sunset. I guess I have found what I had come for: Sun, solitude, inspiration, and a bit of San Francisco's magic that keeps me coming back here. My new discoveries, Duboce Park Café, Arizmendi's Bakery and the concerts at the Chinese corner store will be missed dearly. I also know there will be those moments in Vienna where I miss to just hop onto the street car for the stroll along the beach. The seashell will be my souvenir, in the best sense of the word.
Farewell, San Francisco.
Let's stay in touch.
