There’s something immensely calming about walking through San Francisco in the crisp autumn air, something akin to the feeling of returning home or reuniting with an old friend. I’d like to lay outside in the dewy grass and allow the cold air and clouds to completely encompass me, the cold air conspiring to bring me back to a state of normalcy.
This feeling is magnified because the past few weeks have been unusually warm, making me feel off center, out of place and outside of myself. I felt like a paralarval octopus floating among the microbial inhabitants of the water’s surface, awaiting the day I could expect grander things, for the day I could descend to a home I wasn’t aware existed.
