The Golden Hour

kitty and african violets golden hour

It's been nearly a month since we left San Francisco and moved into our new apartment in Oakland. We love it. Kitty loves it too. There is so much room. And so much light. When the sun sets behind the neighboring houses, the telephone wires and the trees outside light up, and before it gets dark, everything is golden. I feel really lucky. I keep thinking it's too good to be true. But then I am reminded that we endured two years living in downtown San Francisco, walking past crackheads and their filth every day, and hearing sirens blaring all night. Our apartment was so small that there wasn't enough room for bedroom furniture or golf clubs or a second bike, and so we slept on a mattress on the floor, and Jeff couldn't go golfing and we couldn't go on bike rides together. And now we can. And it's laughable to think anyone would pay so much to live there, especially when what we have now is a 20 minute BART ride away. But we did. We wanted to live in the City. And now we know better.

I've started running in the mornings. Most of the houses in our neighborhood have flowers or vegetable gardens in their front yards. Right now the morning glories and thunbergia and passion vines are exploding, and I had no idea that bougainvillea came in so many different shades of red and fuchsia and purple. Artichokes are flowering, and their thistles are florescent periwinkle. There is a park close by, Dover Park, and the entire perimeter of the park is planted with vegetables. It is so beautiful. It does really make me want a yard of our own, and that's the next step. But it is so nice to be in a place where we can live comfortably for a few years and be able to save for our dream home. I feel like Jeffery and I have entered a new stage in our lives and it's only getting better.