San Francisco : Where wild things roam
Never city’s image stood so clear before me as in San-Francisco. As I rode a bus looking out for the Golden Gate Bridge, as I drank coffee at the local сafe, as I strolled though the China Town, I spotted her everywhere. This city was a young woman, a nomad, a non-conformist, a hippie at heart, a rough beauty, with brave heart.
“If you are going to San-Fransico”… boosted through her headphones braided into her messy ombre hair. She had freckles, wildly spread on her sand tanned face well too familiar with both sun and wind. She was in fact made of sun and wind.
Her eyes were dark green turning into brown or grey depending on the light and the sun. “Her eyes were just the mirror for the sun”. She herself was a girl walked out of Red Hot Chilli Peppers song, wild, untamed, free spirited, lighthearted, wicked. She smelled of adventure and serendipity and was brave enough to break every rule out there. She was so beautiful as she danced on a moon bay, shadowed in daylight.
And yes, she was in love. So was I 🙂