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Today was Northern California May Day, at an alumna's gorgeous home up in the Sonoma Valley. The event itself was really enjoyable -- great to see lots of folks I hadn't seen in awhile; why do I keep letting myself fall out of the BMC loop? -- and on the drive home, I found myself getting nostalgic for Sonoma County: the green hills just starting to shade into gold, fields of grapes stretching away from gently curving highways. I don't expect I'll ever live up in Santa Rosa or Sonoma County again, but there's a way in which it still feels like home to me, and sometimes I miss it.
And then an hour or so later, driving down 101, I came out of the rainbow tunnels to the view of the Golden Gate bridge and the city spread out before me, and the sight of it brought a goofy huge grin to my face, as it so often does. Sonoma County may always be my old home, but San Francisco is where the heart is.
And then an hour or so later, driving down 101, I came out of the rainbow tunnels to the view of the Golden Gate bridge and the city spread out before me, and the sight of it brought a goofy huge grin to my face, as it so often does. Sonoma County may always be my old home, but San Francisco is where the heart is.
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