Driving over the Bay Bridge

Bay Bridge

Yesterday I was driving over the Bay Bridge to The City (what we all call San Francisco).  Beautiful day.  I was in the right lane.  Traffic was moving really well at about 55 miles an hour.  However, my lane started doing 15.  Traffic backed up fast.

So, I moved into the lane next to it and, as I started to move faster, I saw why it had slowed.

There was a car with 2 people.  There was nothing wrong with their car.

It must have been their 1st time crossing the bridge.

They were barely moving, both looking out the right window, craning their necks in awestruck wonder.  They were gawking at the sight of the day, The City skyline, the islands in the Bay, the water sparkling with little lights, the blue sky, the audacious Golden Gate Bridge.

I could see they couldn’t believe the view, wanted to capture every little morsel of it, didn’t want it to end, stretching the moment out, making it last as long as possible.  Oblivious to everyone behind them.

I so enjoyed seeing their pleasure, I felt delight and started laughing.  I totally know the moment they were having because it’s the same one I had when I first moved here, and STILL feel.  It never gets old.

When I left Philadelphia in a little blue 2-seater convertible (British MGB), I drove around the country with the top down for 3 months, looking for where I wanted to live. There were a number of places that captured my heart.

But there was a moment, when I was coming around the corner on a ridge of the San Mateo mountain road called Skyline, when I turned a corner and there was San Francisco and the Bay, far below, twinkling like diamonds in the sunshine.  After 3 months of driving, I knew.

I love living in a place where the view is enough to stop you in your tracks.

I hope those 2 tourists are enjoying every moment here, that they find many reasons to leave their hearts in San Francisco and to come back to reclaim them.

And wishing you too incredible beauty in your surroundings and in every aspect of your life.

Love,

Ingrid

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