There are certain places that just feel like home.
Wherever you go, it feels as if your feet have walked the paths before, perhaps in a previous lifetime. The people you meet feel like old friends you’ve known for years – there’s an instant ease, a comfort that you seamlessly settle into. For me, San Francisco is one of those places. I felt it the moment I first crossed over the Bay Bridge into the city, years ago, so much so that I stayed for a year. Now, each time I return, it feels like going home. Last weekend was one of the best I’ve had in a while. It was hectic, running around from place to place, crossing the Golden Gate Bridge more times than I anticipated – but I loved every second of it. From a gorgeous evening in Sonoma with dear friends to an early morning walk among the Redwoods of Muir Woods, to dancing the night away to Tom Petty with huge smiles on our faces. From finding old friends without any phones in a crowd of 80,000 people, to exploring the magical homes tucked away in the trees of Marin County, to listening to the sweet, sweet sounds of Lucius in an old barn in Petaluma with sunlight streaming through open wood beams….
This was a weekend I will never forget.