My City by the Bay

I had a moment at the farmers market about a month ago — the sun was shining, all the summer produce was out, I was selling flowers — and I thought to myself, “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now.”

I’ve been having more of those moments lately. I felt that way on Wednesday night in the Castro celebrating a historic moment for gay rights, and again just this afternoon when marriages were allowed to resume in California and two of the plaintiffs in the Prop 8 case married at City Hall.

Maybe this has just been a special time in San Francisco — a June that actually felt summery, a time when “San Francisco values”, so often on the fringe, began to truly seem like the future — or maybe I’m just getting better at noticing and appreciating some of the things, big and small, that make living in San Francisco special.

A few weeks ago, I went to an event where some of my favorite local authors (Michael Pollan, Jon Mooallem) were reading pieces all centered on how humans and animals interact. Michael Pollan talked about how when he was 14 years old and raising a pig, he met James Taylor, who was also raising a pig at that time. Pollan played a recording of  Taylor’s hilarious song about his pig, Mona (“Everyone figured you for a barbecue when you died”). Jon Mooallem read about buffalo and polar bears and early U.S. conservationists; his reading was accompanied by the band “Black Prairie”. It was the sort of event — a quirky, thought-provoking half-author-event and half-music-show — just seemed quintessentially San Franciscan.

Then just last night, I was heading home after celebrating a friend’s first home purchase, and as I was walking to MUNI, I looked up at this view of the Shell Building, and, once again, I just felt so darn lucky to live here.

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