There comes a calm with living by the sea.
Now free from the year’s collegiate madness, I am fortunate enough to come home to San Francisco where I live by the beach. The Pacific a mile from my house, it covers my neighborhood with a blanket of fog at night but, on sunny days, lends to the air a gentle ocean breeze, a fresh respite from the dry torridity of Arizona. I have written very little since my return almost two weeks ago. I have been by the water. My golden retriever has been my faithful companion on evening walks along the beach and early morning runs in the sand. She swims in the ocean and emerges exhausted, falling soundly asleep minutes after we cross the warm threshold into my old home.
The ocean, to my Arizonan delight, is full of delicacies uncommon in states arid and landlocked: fish. I can count on one hand the number of times I have eaten fish in college. It always arrived at the restaurant in half-frozen fillets in a box of ice shipped overnight from Santa Cruz. It was expensive and just okay.