(Vesper and Lucy on the couch)
Enough about the heavy topic of The Chronicle's future.
The good thing about bad things is that they make the good things seem so much better. Of course, it does help that I'm on vacation this week ...
Anyway, I've always appreciated opposites' effect. Like, leave the bedroom window open in Yorklyn, Del., in the winter, and it makes the comforter feel that much more cozy. You can't have cold without hot; things are defined by their opposites. So maybe it is that I've been doubly appreciating all the delightful aspects of my life in San Francisco.
Those of you who know me know that's not difficult for me to do. I am constantly tickled by such sights as a unicycler making his way up The Great Highway by the Cliff House, the Amgen Tour randomly snaking past my house and my new rescue dog waking me up with an unprecedented bark in my ear.
These things give me joy. Others:
Waking up at 4 a.m., when the buses aren't yet running and traffic has ceased on Clement Street. Listening to the mournful call of the fog horn, the crash of the waves at Ocean Beach, the contented breathing of my pets.
The whisper of air touching my skin when I realize a cat has silently sidled up to me.
The state of my house when my best friend's 3-year-old has visited: a painting lying on the couch, a pinecone on the window sill, costume jewelry in the bed sheets, ornamental glass objects where the cat food bowl used to be ...
My neighbors' brown lab, Harry, when he or his wife take him out. Harry sniffs at my door as if he wants in, then thumps his tail against it.
I am here. I am. And that's more than enough for me.