It's home: fog, rain and the traffic too

Written last night:

Dear Friends,

The fog here is different. In Ohio it was like smoke in the valleys around Steubenville; in Florida it was wispy and hot. And one black night when Clark and I  were sailing on Lake Michigan we couldn’t find the dock, even though it was right in front of our boat, hidden in fog.

But today I was driving along some freeway — I still don’t know 5 from 80 — and all at once the gray sky just settled down on all of us, thick and comfy as a pillow: California in the rain. 

I still have so much to learn, but I’m beginning to feel at home here. That fog didn’t panic me; I found my way to University Art store and felt comfortable browsing there (I used to feel like an interloper.);  I knew I could park on the side street for free, while if I’d parked on on J Street in front of the store I’d have to feed the meter. At 4:30 p.m. I stupidly drove across town from N to D Streets, knowing traffic would be creeping in the rain. I could have walked to pick up Zing much faster. But I did it anyway, eyes open, testing myself and Rosa against the Sacramento evening, just another part of the rush-hour crowd. We belong.

Love,
k