Halleluja for summer! The temperature keeps creeping up, the sun is on full blast and everyone looks like they just got back from vacation, all sun soaked skin and sappy smiles as they loll slowly down the street. My freckles are multiplying and the desire to shed my clothes and jump into a large, icy body of water grows more and more persistent. Thinking back on my favorite summer time memories, their all full of this brilliant, golden light and the spark of sunlight on ripples, the sensation of the sand beneath me, the icy lap of water against my ankles. So much of my summer has been defined by water, by lakes and rivers and oceans and pools. By long days of swimming and diving and floating in it. By hot afternoons propped up on my elbows beside it, reading, laughing, drinking, talking. We used to have bonfires on the beach, bright faces ringing the flames, the pound of the ocean a shadowy mass beyond the circle of friends. We used to float rivers and fling ourselves off cliffs and rush through the air at the end of a ropeswing, holding our breath for the moment when we are plunged, once again, into the sweet, cool depths.
I can’t wait to get out and enjoy all the fruits of the summer time, particularly the aquatic variety. Southern California is renowned for it’s beaches and unfalteringly sunny days, and Ojai has tons of tiny, backwoods hot springs and watering holes speckling the hillsides. I plan to enjoy them all.
What’s your favorite way to pass a summer day?
image via Pinterest
Back in September I mentioned that I was moving out of San Francisco, so these photos are a bit dated. I snapped these shots of my room right around the time I decided to move. It’s kind of bittersweet looking at them again. Walking into that apartment for the first time was like walking into a dream I’ve had since I was 16 years old. I fell in love in this room, spent hours reading and editing photos and writing on that bed. I talked and laughed and commiserated with dozens of friends–both new and old–on that floor. Those walls know so many of my stories. They were my sanctuary when life was just too much, when the hustle and bustle of the city wore on me, I could retreat to this space that was mine and it was as much a part of my experience in San Francisco as the city itself.
I have the tendency to rearrange my room compulsively every three months or so, so this was what my room looked like right before I packed it all up to move. I went through dozens of iterations though, and I imagine that room had seen countless more arrangements of furniture and knick-knackery. Our building was over 110 years old, precisely the sort of classic, old San Francisco Victorian building that I had imagined living in my entire adolescence. I used to watch the sunset seep across the sky behind Sutro Tower and try to imagine who had been there before me. Who had sat in that window and looked down at the river of humanity flowing past on the streets below. I had stood beneath those windows myself, a 16 year old child on her first solo trip to San Francisco, and imagined myself living on this street, in one of those apartments overlooking the chaos of Haight Street. For months after I moved in I couldn’t believe that it was real, that I was living that fantasy my 16 year old self had envisioned all those years ago.
There will always be a special place in my heart for this room, and the city in which it is located. I learned so much about myself while living here. I fell in love, I made many wonderful friends, I experienced so many amazing things and made so many incredible memories. I’ll never be able to walk down Haight Street without pausing beneath those windows and thinking about the girl I was when I lived there. These pictures will help me remember.