The Bay

An irreplaceable city has made a name for itself in ways incomparable to the whimsy of others. A safe haven for the eccentric, the lighthearted, the outspoken; those unabashed by the notions of convention. It was in a whirlwind of spontaneity that I decided to buy a bus ticket to experience the wonders of the Bay Area.

Friday was spent buried in books, entertained by my thoughts and facilitated by excitement. Seven hours spent in anticipation of what the weekend might bring was excruciating. That first glance of the bay made the hours fade and while the city lights welcomed me, I was too enthralled to notice.

Saturday was a fantastic day and one that will not soon be forgotten. We ate a wonderful breakfast near the window just to hear the patter of the rain. We visited the Museum of Modern Art, allowing our minds to wander and imagination play. The works of Warhol, sculptures capturing the intensity of normalcy, and cloud cities begged to be appreciated yet never quite understood. The high of insight crashed into the waves of hunger and we headed off to Fisherman’s Warf for samples of the local cuisine. Off we went along the beach to see the gem of the city from a vantage point only a local would know about.

The storm continued on to Sunday and lasted the whole day through. After a delicious brunch we retreated indoors to appreciate the sounds of the city among the downpour. Just in time for kick off we watched the game followed by whatever sounded good on Netflix for the rest of the day. I have never had a more wonderful lazy day. Chinese take out delivered to the door ensured we could remain in our sweat pants and keep the cares of the world to those experiencing it that day.

Sad to depart but drenched in the light of the waking city I boarded the bus and said my goodbyes. I whisper to the city that I won’t be gone for too long and to always remain the city of fantasy.

Content and Photograph by Alexandrea Rager

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