Sunday, December 15, 2002

We drove to the Presidio and stopped where a street took a right angle right and straight ahead the earth seemed to completely fall away, and in the distance was the Bay. We parked the car and got out and walked down the steps, the Lyon Street Steps, shouldered by ornate, shuttered Venetian-style homes with terra cotta roofs. It was all beautiful and precious and I wondered what it would be like to be one of these joggers, rich healthy San Francisco people, running up and down the steps and stretching against the stone walls of the flower garden.