By “bicycles”, I mean my bicycle. I mean “in the dark”, after the sun has set, after a city-wide parade, coming home from work at 8:30 at night. I don’t know what I meant by the title, just thought it sounded all clever and “bloggy”.
I’m tired – a 12 hour day will do that to you, even if it is interrupted by a ticker tape parade. I don’t have much to say, except that one of my most treasured moments of my day is when I ride my bike home at night.
When it is later than usual, the traffic lessens but the lights are just as twinkly around the Bay Bridge. The cold salt air coming off the Bay calms my nerves and I start to forget those parts of my day that make me twitchy and/or not the nicest person to be around.
Rounding the bend near Coit Tower, there’s often an eerily illuminated cruise ship looming over Fisherman’s Wharf. Sometimes I wonder if it’s a B-movie spaceship here to take me away. Most times I wonder if they’d notice a well-mannered Canadian stowaway before they leave port.