Wind by the river

Written last night:
I have a thing for bridges, as you know. Brooklyn Bridge, Golden Gate Bridge, southern Indiana covered bridge — all are thrilling, but the best for me is the Rickenbacker in Miami. I love the way it feels at the rise near the center. There is always a breeze, always a broad view, and sometimes even a bit of drama from the passers-by or the mementos left on the railing. Everyone says there’s so much gorgeous nature for me to experience around Sacramento — but secretly, to me, it will have to measure up to that wild feeling at the middle of the Rickenbacker. Today I got a little taste of it. 

About 5 p.m. Zing and I walked the few blocks to the Crocker Art Museum. (Part of the way I balance-walked on the curb.) Just beyond the museum there’s a short, unassuming bridge over the freeway. For the first time, we crossed over it. Ho-hum. We found ourselves on the River Walk, a broad cement path overlooking the Sacramento River. I was unimpressed. Rivers remind me of work and places you go when you can’t get to the ocean. I sat on a bench, gazed at the water, with the freeway buzz close behind me. Then I stood up and began to walk the path with Zing, and right then the wind picked up and swirled my hair; for just a few seconds it  felt like that strong Rickenbacker breeze. (To me, the wind is magic and God and maybe even Clark all rolled up in a gust.) It felt great, and I thought maybe I’ll give this river a chance.

Earlier this afternoon I talked with Florida friends Jennifer, an artist from Tallahassee, and Pam, whose career at Carrollton kind of echoed mine.  I am delighted that friendship stretches this far! 

As for work — it was the usual: screwing chairs together, driving to Michael’s to get art framed, digging down deep into the automatic bill pay function of the bank … answering stupid questions like what was the make and model of your first car? Fiat 500, of course. Don’t tell! 

Tomorrow is the first day of Fall. Wherever you are, enjoy the change!

Love,
k