headed west, headed back east

some shocking green in february. this long weekend a visit to the east bay, to the Marin hills, the intersection of college and broadway and likely a few too many pastry shops. all this in the name of special occasion fashion and a chance to get away with the ladies of the family for some well earned, good intentioned frivolity and enough giggling, eating, shopping and getting lost to make even the most poorly testosterone endowed male cower. (although, to admit, part of me cowered too, at times.)

it must be known that i began my college career in the slate gray and damp quadrangle of downtown Oakland, linked to the Berkeley town line on the 51 bus route, shuttled in and out of the Civic Center's heart by more rumbling trolleys and lodged firmly in the many pastel neighborhoods that are neither here nor there. the California College of Arts and Crafts (now, more practically, the California College of the Arts) was quite a shock for a country girl from the mountains. not only ethnically, socio-economically and practically, but also from the huge departure of a well-ordered, four season geographical area. in Utah winter is cold, snowy, sharp and brilliantly lit. in the Bay Area winter is cool, damp, gray and lush. i mean lush. there never exists a shortage of fecundity, fierce growth and unmanageable thriving in the temperate hills of this place and i never truly got over that.

 this weekend, as a student 10 years older, questionably wiser and certainly more worldly (at least a little...) i was still floored to see backyard trees, bus stop shrubs and supermarket landscape architecture heavy with pumelos, lemons, tangerines, oranges, grapefruits and limes. everywhere thick curtains of cherry blossom paved the road below in snowy white, muffled the sounds of hurtling ambulances, cast a pale blush on anyone who walked below. succulents the size of thumbs that we try desperately to force in the windowsills at home are eclipsed by cousins of the same heritage growing, stout as tree limbs, rigid, luminous and thick. i walked about with bare arms, a bare head and bare knuckles. and following that, everything became novel even in the most dismal urban areas where misdirection and a failing navigator landed us.

a trip to a well-loved community market called the berkeley bowl, a paradise for the produce-starved, or those who live in (what i am told, poignantly) urban food desserts further stunned all travelers involved who were accosted, upon entering, not four or five but fully twenty eight variety of edible citrus (discounting lemons and limes which cannot be readily eaten), whole rounders of foraged, wild greens (including wild arugula and upland cress), what appeared to be whole bushels of brussels sprouts, crates of fragrant heirloom tomatoes and more wild mushrooms than anyone could readily catalog.

and that, despite any effort or surge of self control set the pace for the glut of snacks, travel and exploring that followed. none of it practical nor based in any kind of utilitarian reality.

pour over cafe au lait at cole coffee

bahn mi from a vietnamese shop at the Civic Center

a mess of diner vessels at the rock ridge cafe

the happiest succulents, at Stinson Beach

 

and it was of course, brilliant and beautiful, tasty and soporific, lush and lucid and perfect and completely exhausting. there was a distinct lack of restoration, rest, replenishment and quiet, which is as it should be when three ladies scream across the east bay propelled by powder sugar and the desire to purchase spangles. 

and today, curling up with all the loves in my life, i am pleased to have a silent cup of coffee and catch up with the slow simple life. complete with east bay pastry which i smuggled back into the desert in my backpack and browned under the broiler.