Posted at 12:28 am , on September 20, 2018
“Rabbit, rabbit, rabbit,” she said upon waking, a childhood ritual taught to her by her English grandmother. Folklore stated that saying rabbit thrice on the morning of the first day of the month would bring good luck. She was no longer a child but figured it couldn’t hurt and she could use some good juju on the long drive ahead.
She was playing her harp at a wedding gig in Napa and decided to drive up the night before so she’d be rested before the mid-morning ceremony. The highway was clogged with weekend travelers and she was barely moving. The mechanical voice on her navigation app notified her of another route and she took the next exit to follow it.
Posted at 12:34 am , on August 23, 2018
I stood mid-span of the Golden Gate Bridge, gazing down at the waves far below. The site was infamous for suicide jumpers who kept the Coast Guard small boat station busy year-round. The majority achieved their goal of death when they hit the water at a force similar to running into a cement wall, or drowned from the severe plunge into the frigid, rough waves sweeping out to sea. Less than two percent survived the fall since the bridge opening in 1938.
A sailboat bucked against the current on it’s way out of the safety of the Bay into the ocean, the bow dipping into the waves and then rising back up and throwing great sprays of water towards the couple in the cockpit. It was just one single boat and not a fleet. It wasn’t a race and the wind was relatively light. Still, it brought back memories of exactly 20 years ago that day.