I find the tree. The big yellow one.
I hold my breath and crawl under her branches. I want it to surround me with its smell. I close my eyes, push my nose up high and
Jasmine and merigold and that night in Delhi. The dew from the Imperial Palace Hotel is thin on my forearms. Palm Springs with grandpa. My feet tingle on the grass. It’s summer. I’m four. Grandpa, you left your club! I’m running across the putting green past the bushes in full bloom. The sun rises in Shanghai. Was it our first day there? You’re watching the jasmine flowers sink to the bottom of your glass. Soft sunrise yellows move across the face of a warrior, sculpted into stone, watching us. A bumble bee rests on a bud. Your hair is wet from the swim. I squeal. Don’t worry, you say, you’re safe. It stings you.
An invitation to be in the moment
This morning we decided on a spontaneous trip to Baker Beach with our two-year-old son.
Our city by the bay is done with Summer. That summertime fog that we wake up to is no more.
Homeward bound after a month in the USA
One day-One Hour- One Minute- It will happen. It is inevitable. Except it already has.
Top 10 Things To Do In San Francisco
If you live in San Francisco, you know to avoid Eddy and Leavenworth Street... *stab*
Wrote this the day after the attacks in Paris but was reminded of it this morning when I read the news about the bombing in Turkey
In Search of Color