Farewell San Francisco

Farewell, San Francisco. Nearly two years to the day since I arrived, I bid you adieu.

It’s not you. Really. Granted some things grew old – the traffic, petty crime, conversations about kale – but you offered so much more. Despite being such a big city, your small neighborhoods felt like anywhere but, and offered a lifetime of exploration.

Sure, I missed my proximity to the mountains, but your hills made a valiant attempt to substitute. And your proximity to the water made me fall in love with the melodic rhythm of the ocean.

Sure, I missed having winter in the city in which I lived, but I came to love Karl (the fog, for you non-San Franciscans) coating the City just the same.  And though I wished for snow in winter, your cool summers were much appreciated.

Arriving at the end of the drought for two incredible winters in Tahoe didn’t hurt, either.

Sure, I missed going out to photograph landscapes so easily, but your coast, rolling hills, architecture, and bridges – how could I not mention the bridges? – provided more than enough inspiration.

And let’s not forget, while you perhaps didn’t win over my heart for good, you certainly won over my taste buds. Nearly every meal I’ve had here rates among the best I’ve had. No matter how you define Californian fare, it’s good. On the beverage front, my coffee addiction has only worsened with access to your many great local roasters and shops, and I fear the forthcoming withdrawal.

For all the good and bad of the City itself, leaving close friends behind will be hardest part. For that reason alone, I’m sure I’ll be back and we can pick up where we left off. Perhaps, then, this isn’t so much of an adieu, but an until next time.