Friends of Father

I’m ready for a return trip to the city up north. I think I lived in San Francisco in a past life or perhaps had some life altering moment happen there. I’ve never felt so connected to a place, like when you drive past the first home you can remember as a kid. A flood of emotion gathers right below your diaphragm. It’s on my UnrealAmazing list. Everywhere you look there’s something worth seeing. And the sea lions. And sourdough bread. Yum.