Walk: Hood
Distance: 4.5
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So, when Ciwt was in Palm Springs, the sky was never not clear and blue, or the mountains blocked by haze. Blades of perfectly green grass were mowed several times a day so they were always even with each other. There were extra, open pickleball courts for all the snappily dressed players. Everyone smiled, waved, said "Another perfect day in Paradise!" as they golf carted by. Even the plane ride from San Francisco had been ripple free.
The flight back was extremely turbulent from takeoff to landing. The skies were thick with mid grey clouds which reached almost to the ground. As her plane descended, there were ripples of water on the windows by her seat. And, sure enough, there was 'unseasonable' rain and cold on the ground. People whisked by nearly knocking each other over at the airport, the highway to the city was frustrating to navigate, homeless people began appearing on the sidewalks. The complications of San Francisco city life began emerging..
And, happily, Ciwt began to feel the particular palpable energy of this fascinating, difficult, challenging, ever evolving, embarrassment of riches city that holds her heart.
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