It was sometime between our driving to Crissy Field and up to the underskirt of the bridge, sometime in the midst of climbing up to Gary crow's nest to watch the fog escalate on the horizon, sometime while cooking and then, again, while eating, that I remembered how it has been for Kate Moses and me—how our friendship began with a question: Will you write an essay for our anthology? It was a decade ago, I think, the glory days of Salon.com, where she worked as an editor with her husband, and ever since our lives have tangled—her friends becoming mine, her stories familiar and extending, her beautiful face a signpost, her presence one of the reasons San Francisco feels, to me, like a second home, a place that is mine, too, for she has given it to me, in increments, over time.
See this, she says. Let me take you here, she insists. Climb into Gary's '66 convertible Mustang and go for a ride into the sun and out of the sun and all the way down Lombard. Then it is some crazy hour, late at night, and she is drawing you a map of the Mission, listing out the best restaurants, reminding you of the fossil shop where, once again, you'll go, this time with family.
I am blessed by friendships long and continuing. I am blessed by hearts that remember.
Beautiful friendship story! Love the connection between the Red Sunflower, Mustang ride and your friendship with Kate Moss. I haven't read any of her books-she writes novels? I will follow up on her work...thanks for bringing her to my attention. <3
What a gorgeous photo and tribute.
I LOVE Crissy Field.
I had not heard of Crissy Field. I'd never seen a red sunflower. When you mentioned Lombard Street I flashed back to my drive down it nearly 25 years ago. Thanks for taking time to post so we can travel along on a virtual journey.
Cheers to your friendship with Kate and the extra joy that gives to your vacation time.
What a lovely friendship--the best kind. A tangled web of lives, an amazing city (a fabulous car!!)... Enjoy your time together.
Friendships with such a long history are so wonderful. They become like a tapestry of our lives, with small treasures of memories pieced together.