My morning walk is my sanity.  Not long.  Not hard.  But filled with fresh air and new perspectives on my neighborhood, myself, and the day at hand.

New York greeted me with water views of the Hudson River, and Park City had sky and mountains and birds and all kinds of natural phenomenons to inspire me.

And this morning here in San Francisco, I began to push a little further, out along a funky pier across the street to find a new view of an old bridge, and a fresh angle on a beautiful skyline.

Water is so calming and the Bay, this morning, was especially so. I had to dash across the Embarcadero to reach the waterside of the street, but there the sounds of the trams and traffic fell away and the calling of the seagulls are all I heard over the lapping of the water. The morning sky, orange and yellow, seemed painterly and somehow further above me than usual.  And when I turned and saw another perspective on a familiar skyline, it too seemed almost art directed.

I can’t seem to find much quiet time, time to reflect, or write, these days.  We are traveling to see family a lot right now, because we finally can, and our time here is spent with paint chips and faucet selections and meetings with contractors and sub contractors. It is all good.  But it is busy.

I am off now to visit our son at school in Colorado and can’t wait to see his sweet face. Next week should be calmer and hopefully I can write a little more.

But, of course, I have been saying that for the past month now.  Ah, the joys of moving.