The Paths We Choose / by Hope A

It's funny to live so close to water and not see it often. 

Nineteen years ago I was stuck on I-80, heading from Berkeley to San Fransisco, during my second visit to the Bay Area.  I was amazed that even with the shitty traffic, the water was so close, shimmering. When I moved here, I discovered I could ride on a path between that traffic and the water, following the bay to work and then home. It is a greatly beautiful distant view of the city, of the hills of Marin, and of the expanse of water.

Some one offered to take me sailing the other day.  it didn't work out but it reminded me how close I am to the water. I am terrible at taking a day off, even though I have been tired, my mind sluggish, my energy low.  But I made sure to ride to the water, with an hour of nothing. I lay on my back, the same shitty traffic tucked out of view, just the bay and the waves and the waves and the clouds like looked like water.