The house is perched on a hill looking over a cloud-covered valley. Berkeley, San Francisco, Marin, the Bay: all of it is covered. I will drive down into the cloud to deliver Benjie to his school, then I’ll drive back. We moved my desk downstairs yesterday. But I will bring my laptop upstairs, work from the kitchen table and watch the light change.
I can see Alcatraz and the Golden Gate Bridge from my couch if I twist around like this. They lay just beyond where my wine glass sits on the window sill.
The Oakland Airport security screening area is plastered with billboard sized ads for the hotel chain that I stay at in Houston. Everything is painted in the hotel’s color pallette and the couches where people put their shoes and belts on after screening are scaled up versions of the couch that will be waiting for me at the end of my trip today. It makes for a strange transition, like I’m already there.
My Dick’s Drive-In shirt surfaced in my dresser today and I put it on. While brushing, my electric toothbrush gave off a spray of toothpaste dots and I immediately visualized the stippling of milkshake mixer dots that would I’d have spread across the shirt after a couple of shifts.
Each day that I’ve walked past this week, except for today, there has been a cloister of pelicans resting from their migration on the opposite shore of the lagoon. On the island in the next pond over from them there were also a number of egrets spread across the shore.
Yesterday, as I observed the birds, a dog came lumbering by. Its leash was pulled taut with a woman leaning against its weight at the other end. The woman wore a sea green tshirt with the words “Comcast Cares” printed on front.
Today, as I note the birds’ absence, a sea plane circles around to land in the bay behind me. It slows as its skids first skim the surface. Then it lifts off again, circles around and repeats its attempt twice more before it comes to a stop on its fourth attempt.
A jet’s vapor trail reaches from one horizon to the other intersecting the noontime sun at its halfway point.
This is the last bottle left from a haul of four wines that Tricia picked up at Wine Mine before our Thanksgiving trip. If it’s not the best wine from that haul, it is the most surprising. I haven’t been favoring cabernet recently, but this is tasty. It has strong fruit and tannin tastes that balance out perfectly.
I found a weird hazelnut candy with a half-opened wrapper printed with Russian text in my son’s Halloween haul. I’m afraid I ate it. It didn’t taste good, but it also didn’t taste bad. I’m not sure what happens next.
Waves flicker with dimples that catch the light when the wind gusts brush against their surface.