Friday, August 10, 2007

A letter from San Francisco G....for Grace Cathedral


I'm at the top of the stairs, to one side sitting in late evening sunshine. The sounds of the city traffic surround me. Through it I can hear the laughing cries of children on the swings in the park below.

Between us is the maze, and two people following its curves; a black female, a white male. Both are wearing sunglasses,she is wearing a coat, her hair is braided,his is thinning.

To one side an old Chinese man stands, his back to the circle. His watch faces him on the grey concrete wall and he inhales the scent of orange blossom that is planted there. He starts a series of swinging hip exercises.

Off to one side, amongst the lavender bushes planted along the pathways, a Chinese lady of uncertain age, wearing a woolen jacket against the coming evening chill, begins her stretches. Two tourists arrive and look across the city blocks and at their map. A fire engine sirens past followed by two yellow taxis. Birds skit from the buildings to the pine trees behind, their shadows cross my feet.

Someone walks past talking into a mobile phone and I catch a snatch of conversation; "and she said that if it weren't for him...."

The Chinese man is now swinging his arms and the Chinese lady is walking backward around the edge of the circular maze. She passes him but says nothing.

A hobo with a plastic bag appears, checks the trash and leaves.

A businessman walks home, listening to his I-pod; he looks at me as he passes. Another crosses the street down the hill and the wind picks up the tails of his jacket.

I am sheltered from most of that wind where I sit but feel the soft best of it against my skin where it dries the sweat on my face.

A clang from the passing cable car bell is answered by those of the Cathedral; 7 proud rings, and the Chinese lady breaks into a forward trot and for a second says something to the man who alternates swinging arms and shoulder stretch.

In the park at the foot of the cathedral steps, people sit in the last hour of summer sunshine; dogs are walked or play freely.

Two tourists leave the Cathedral, three arrive and enter. The Chinese man stops and smoothes his hair, the woman brushes against his elbow as she passes.

It could be a dance, it could be a ritual, most probably it was an accident.

No comments:

About Me

My photo
st michel de vax, France
Hi and welcome. Now and again i rewrite this profile; to keep things fresh. Today though i can't think of anything to say that seems relevant. I could talk about my first job - helping Norman the local milkman, or my most recent - helping Louise with her English - but that would miss out my experiences as Town Planner, Juggler and Refuse Collector. Most of these get their moment(s) somewhere inside and if you explore you’ll discover these and more, including life and times in England - where I’m from - and France - where i live. The blog is a ragbag of ideas, musings, insights, warnings (teenage children) advice (ditto) - yes i'm a dad - questions, fun and love - yes i'm married. It's all in here, more besides. There’s a section -"Did i miss anything?" - a place to start for a quick tour, alternatively sit back, dive in. Everything Red is a link – click and set off on a journey. There's a list of bloggers who have dropped in become part of it all; you can follow their name as it links to their own, excellent blogs. If you visit for two seconds or two years, leave a comment, say hello, become a friend. Thanks for visiting Chris x