The Fog

Sometimes the fog looks quite dramatic coming over Twin Peaks. This was taken on Saturday from the steps across the street from our apartment.

The Murals of the Mission

I've always admired the great number of murals in the Mission district, and for a while I've wanted to photograph a bunch of them. Today, being a beautiful sunny day in the city, I finally made the time to do just that. Unfortunately, my digital camera is with Stella in North Carolina right now, so I took all these on my iPhone. While I was biking around, the streets of the Mission were full of cars stuffed with Mexicans waving theirs flag, honking and screaming. You see, Mexico had just beat the US in Soccer to win the Gold Cup. My Mexican neighbors were very, very excited.

Here is a but a sampling of some of the murals in neighborhood.

Zen and the Art of Palm Maintenance

I've never thought too much about palm trees until recently. On the five minute walk between the train station and my office I pass roughly 75 palm trees (no, I've never counted them, and I'm not going to). Recently, a crew has been doing maintenance on them. I never realized that palm trees needed to be maintained, particularly with such big machinery.



It makes sense that you should cut off the dead fronds, lest you end up with a tree like this:


But what surprised me was the workers striping the old remains of the fronds off. Here are before and after photos:



I don't see what the purpose of this is, other than to create a more manicured look. Personally, I prefer the "before" look to the "after" look. Anyone else agree, or is this just evidence of my preference for all things scruffy?

Sierra 1990 - 2009

Sierra, my feline companion since January of 1991, was put to sleep on Sunday. She would ld have been 19 this fall, in late September or early October.

This was one of the most difficult things I've had to go through. Sierra was my constant companion through some of the most formative years of my life. I was 22 when I got her, and a very different person than I am now. She first lived with me on Prospect Street in Ann Arbor while I was attending the University of Michigan and playing guitar in the band Assembly Required. She was such an adorable kitten.

A few months later we moved to Longshore Drive, a beautiful secluded street along the Huron River. There is a beautiful trail nearby that winds through the woods along the river. I would often go walking on that trail and Sierra would follow me. We had a favorite spot where we would sit near a tree that had fallen out on the river. This is where I intend to scatter her ashes when I return to Ann Arbor in a couple of weeks to get married.

Next we moved to a farm in northern Vermont, near the town of South Alburg on the shores of Lake Champlain. It was February when we arrived, in a house heated by a sub-par wood burning stove. I slept bundled up in my sleeping bag covered by blankets, and Sierra would crawl into my sleeping bag with me to keep warm. Come summer time, she loved to be in the field, among the vegetables and herbs we were growing. She particularly loved laying in the shade of the broccoli plants. In addition to the farming work, I was also working part time in Burlington, 45 minutes away. When I would return home, I would wander out into the tall grass near our farm plot and call her name. I would then see the grass rustling, moving closer to me. As she approached, I would lay down in the tall grass, and Sierra would sit on my chest and purr. We were so happy to see each other.

After a year, we moved back to Michigan, living with my friend Steve in Whitmore Lake. She loved the open country, and sometimes would disappear for two or three days at a time, exploring. Later, we moved to an apartment on Fountain Street in Ann Arbor, where we lived for nine years. We briefly had another cat, named Boutros Boutros-Ghali. I called him "Booty" for short. Sierra didn't much like living with another cat, and was happy when Boutros left one morning and never came back. I, however was sad. A few years later, I got another cat, Ariel, who still lives with me.

One of my favorite memories of Sierra in that house was how she let me know when she wanted to come in. She loved going outside, but when she was ready to come in, she would climb up the screen door until she could see through the small window in the door at just above human head level. It looked as if a tall person with a tiny cat head was peering through the window. My neighbors would sometimes walk by and see her clinging to the screen near the top of the door. They loved it.

After nine years at that house, we all moved in with Shannon in a house on Spring Street, a block away. Here the cats now lived with Tierra, Shannon's dog, and Amber, her cat. This experience brought Sierra and Ariel together as a family, trying to cope with this new living situation. Before too long, though, I bought a house on Sunrise Street, where we all lived together; two humans, three cats and a dog. The cats loved the garden and would lounge about among the flowers and on the patio or deck I built. One of my favorite memories here is when Sierra would jump on my bed at night, crawl beneath the covers and lay next to me and purr loudly.

After four years in this house, Stella & I moved to Berkeley, California. Sierra and Ariel lived mostly in my office, which had a door going out to the beautiful patio and garden. Ariel loved the garden, but by now Sierra was so old that she preferred staying inside. Still, she occasionally explored the garden and enjoyed the California sun.

After six months, we moved to San Francisco, to a large house in the Outer Richmond. Here, Sierra had the run of the house, but preferred mostly to lie in a corner in Stella's office or on the sofa bed in my office. By now she really seemed old.

One year later, we moved to our current apartment in the Bernal Heights neighborhood in San Francisco. It's a much smaller place, but with a nice deck overlooking Noe Valley. Again, Sierra mostly stayed in her bed, but would often sit on the deck and enjoy the sun.

Last Thursday it became more obvious that Sierra was very old and in less than great health. She was peeing on the rug rather than making the short walk to the litter box. I decided I would take her to the vet the following Tuesday, when I planned to work from home. Unfortunately, things took a turn for the worse on Sunday. She was very sick and could barely walk and wouldn't eat or even drink water. I took her to the animal hospital where I learned she had acute liver failure. To attempt to save her would require at least 48 hours of hospitalization and the vet doubted that she would even make it through the next 12 hours.

We both agreed that the best thing was to put her to sleep. It was one of the most painful things I've ever endured. I held her in my arms, looking into each other's eyes, as she passed away. I can't remember the last time I cried so hard.

So much in my life has changed in the last 19 years. But the one constant through it all has been the companionship of Sierra, my Familiar, my friend. She enriched my life greatly, and I can only hope I was able to do the same for her.

I take some comfort that in the final few days I spent a lot of quality time with her, knowing that our time together was growing short. It was still shorter than I expected, but I am grateful that I had that time at all.

Sierra, I miss you. I love you. I will remember you always.

waiting...

Damn, now that's a long wait!

In Rainbows

The title of this post is also the name of the last Radiohead album. This post has nothing to do with Radiohead.

But it does something to do with rainbows. And trains.

On the CalTrain ride home from work today, we sat at the Bayshore station for 20 minutes because there was an accident on the tracks somewhere in San Francisco that prevented the trains from going through.

But as I sat there on the train I could see a full rainbow over the bay. I took photos with my iPhone and tried unsuccessfully to stitch them together on my computer. So here are the two photos, of either end of the rainbow:


























I also tried to take another photo of the rainbow while passing by a scrap metal dump, but the rainbow was barely visible:


This could be seen as a metaphor for urban life: fleeting moments of beauty sitting upon a huge pile of shit.

missing the ocean

We used to live less than one mile from the ocean. We could see it from a window in our house. Now we live on the other side of the city, several miles from the ocean. I used to go to the beach, either to surf, run, or just watch the sunset, nearly every day. Now it's been weeks since I've seen it and I realize just how much I miss it. Something about the ocean just draws me to it, and I'm really feeling that pull strongly right now.

I will, however, have some time to go this weekend Stella & Jeffrey are going to Ann Arbor on Saturday until Thursday. Some portion of my free time will involve the ocean, hopefully surfing on it. The surf report for Saturday looks a bit intense for me with waves 5-8 feet high. I like around 3 foot waves the best, since I still totally suck at surfing. Hopefully sunday will be calmer, but if not, I'll probably see what I can do with the bigger waves.