text /// Chris Rusak

05-24-08

Weather in San Francisco.

In great San Francisco fashion, the weather is almost entirely different than it was three days ago. Outside my window is a thick coat of fog, it’s chilly, and I slept with two thick blankets last night yet still shivered. Last week, I was sweating my ass off in shorts and a t-shirt. The unpredictability of San Francisco is a major part of its charm. Aside from unannounced rain that typically always sucks, the random nature of nature is free entertainment.

My love for the fog stretches into diffuse light territory. When it is sunny everywhere else, but the clouds are up here, all those moisture molecules make love to the sun’s rays and provide our fair town with this bright, sometimes blinding, diffuse light that is like heaven shining out for artists. Everything (save the sky) has a little pop to it with the grey-white spotlight. The hues of my living room stand out. And there is a special sight of clarity one does not catch in regular old sunshine.

Having said all that, I dislike the low-50s chill, but if one must have medicine with sugar, I think it is a fair deal.

Last night I had the realization that in ninety days I turn thirty. I am at the last three months of my twenties and it has been frightening and giggly and I’ve decided that this is special moment to be savored. I can’t quite vocalize the emotion connected to the thought. But, at dusk on a warm summer night, as the lightening bugs flicker through the trees, you are well informed that in a few hours the sun will be up.

Here’s to the rising sun.