One roads leads to another.
The road might seem ordinary after taking it over and over again, or it can take us back to another time the moment a song comes on the radio…
Interstate 5, to the 505 cut off, then to interstate 80…
My niece Patty drove me to the airport in San Francisco.
The wide open space allowed my thoughts to wander out, breath freely, then to do whatever they wanted.
One roads leads to another, the freedom go see over yonder,
shake the dust off one's boots and decide what to do next.
Golden fields,
to the Golden Gate,
to the golden domes of Paris,
to the golden embrace.
Over the Bay bridge with Coit's tower in the distance.
The landmarks along the journey, landmarks made by others and those we have placed to remind us. The saying goes, "I left my heart in San Francisco", but I know my was taken from there, French Husband likes to say, "I brought a big souvenir when I came back from San Francisco."
San Francisco, the ever changing skyline.
Far from the quiet country roads of Willows, Paris by taxi I went, jammed pack the ride took over two hours. I did not miss this city factoid: Traffic.
Though the facades, the architecture, the boulevards, the cafes, the fashion plates… I drank it in letting it mingle with the images and memories of Willows. They could not be further apart, at least I feel comfortable in both.
One icon to another.
Bonjour Paris.
Goodbye California.
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