Arrived in the San Francisco Bay Area today, escaping the wet, humid climate of the East Coast. There is nothing like this dry heat to recall the dreaminess of summer in California. What a pleasure, sitting out on the deck, the breeze slightly tinged with the bay air, unleashing sublime memories of lazy afternoons sipping beers.
This golden landscape is a far cry from the security barricades of Washington, those hot muggy nights of thunder and lightening, and the generally ominous climate of the nation’s capital. Here in the suburbs of California, the gently rolling hills seem calm and serene, timeless, a spectrum of color that is a gentle reminder, there is such a thing as pure reverie.
That is the California dream I remember so well.