The allure of the ocean

   I live about two and a half miles from the Pacific Ocean. When my wife and I first visited San Francisco close to ten years ago, one of the first places that I dragged her to was the beach. I grew up in New York City, and although I was never technically very far from the ocean there, getting to it seemed like a tremendous hassle, and going to a beach which wasn't busy with people seemed even harder, and potentially dangerous if going in the off-season.

   Although I don't go to the beach as much as when I first moved here (partly because I've found so many secluded, beautiful places to see in nearby Golden Gate Park, partly because I'm sometimes not in the mood to lug through the sand), I still find the allure of the beach wonderful. There's something about seeing the ocean in the distance that makes me feel like i'm approaching freedom, even though I don't always feel that way when I'm actually at the beach. Like many things in my life, the allure is often more satisfying than the actual thing.

Slowing down

   I took this picture in Golden Gate Park after some especially heavy rains had fallen the day earlier.
I was walking very slowly, and intently looking closely at things which would normally go unnoticed by me had I been walking at my normal pace. I decide at times to walk this way to help me slow down, and when I do so I really feel connected to the world around me. This little creature moved very slowly too, and together we seemed to relish our respective places in our environs at that moment. With the help of my wife days later, I learned that this animal is a type of Woodlouse, and it generally thrives in moist environments. We both like the park when it's moist.