ABSTRACT
A unique delight washes over me every time I see the skyline of San Francisco from Highway 80; like being in love and seeing that special face again after an absence. My windows are rolled down to let the bay air wash over me, extracting the valley heat from my skin and replacing it with a coastal cool. The highway signs have become as familiar as old friends: University Avenue, Ashby Avenue, University of California Berkeley Next Exit. I keep glancing over my right shoulder at that incredible city across the gray-green water of the bay, as if I'd just picked up my lover from the airport and want to memorize his features all over again. Be patient. Watch the road. There will be time to gaze over cappuccino later. Never enough time though.
