Of Sunsets During Sunrise
Under the dim light of my monitor and sunrise, I'd like to take this time to elaborate on my love of sunsets. At UCSD, I had the luxury of seeing sunsets any time I wanted. Our dorm room suite view looked like this. 
No I'm not even kidding.
Since then, I've lived in various cities. I only consider myself home when (1) I've locked myself out and (2) I find somewhere to see a sunset over water, or in the landlocked cities, at least a nice park with a body of water. It always manages to brighten up my day and put things in perspective. And a chance to jam to music.
Because interestingly enough, I rarely see other people in my places of solitude. Here, at the end of an unremarkable set of townhouses, lies a view of the ocean in the midst of a mini-forest. It's a 4 minute walk from my house and my little haven. I've sung countless songs at the tops of my lungs without a complaint (not necessarily an indication of talent).
Further up Twin Peaks, above the parking lot vista point everybody knows of, are two 360 views of the entire city. I'll bike there when I have time and motivation, but I have to admit, after finding my little haven, I rarely go up there anymore. But I'm always happy when I do.
Down and around the corner, is Sloat park. I always see dog walkers. Dogs make me nervous on a bike, but I am happy that others are basking in the sun.
Continue further north, you'll hit Golden Gate Park, a 1,017 acre of city park heaven complete with a waterfall, a windmill, lakes, and bison!
The city peaks out behind this one.
Head west and there is Ocean Beach, with yes, the Pacific Ocean lapping at your feet. Although it's often times too cold for this, I at least try and dip my hands in.
They say the best things in life are free and I think I've truly internalized that lesson. All I do is bike and cook. But how impressive is it that, in the second most dense city in America, there is room for so much nature? The green (and blue, and purple, and orange, and so on) nurtures us and gives us an escape from the grey concrete. It reminds us that there are important things in this world that aren't man-made and thus, can't be bought. It provides the critical link between us and the environment, and makes us lovers. For who in their right mind would willingly destroy their own sanctuary?
No I'm not even kidding.
Since then, I've lived in various cities. I only consider myself home when (1) I've locked myself out and (2) I find somewhere to see a sunset over water, or in the landlocked cities, at least a nice park with a body of water. It always manages to brighten up my day and put things in perspective. And a chance to jam to music.
Because interestingly enough, I rarely see other people in my places of solitude. Here, at the end of an unremarkable set of townhouses, lies a view of the ocean in the midst of a mini-forest. It's a 4 minute walk from my house and my little haven. I've sung countless songs at the tops of my lungs without a complaint (not necessarily an indication of talent).
Further up Twin Peaks, above the parking lot vista point everybody knows of, are two 360 views of the entire city. I'll bike there when I have time and motivation, but I have to admit, after finding my little haven, I rarely go up there anymore. But I'm always happy when I do.
Down and around the corner, is Sloat park. I always see dog walkers. Dogs make me nervous on a bike, but I am happy that others are basking in the sun.
Continue further north, you'll hit Golden Gate Park, a 1,017 acre of city park heaven complete with a waterfall, a windmill, lakes, and bison!
The city peaks out behind this one.
Head west and there is Ocean Beach, with yes, the Pacific Ocean lapping at your feet. Although it's often times too cold for this, I at least try and dip my hands in.
They say the best things in life are free and I think I've truly internalized that lesson. All I do is bike and cook. But how impressive is it that, in the second most dense city in America, there is room for so much nature? The green (and blue, and purple, and orange, and so on) nurtures us and gives us an escape from the grey concrete. It reminds us that there are important things in this world that aren't man-made and thus, can't be bought. It provides the critical link between us and the environment, and makes us lovers. For who in their right mind would willingly destroy their own sanctuary?