I have new eyes.
San Francisco sparkles differently. I notice hills, second-floor signs, building details, and murals. I reconnoiter slowly and freely through the streets. Travel taught me no longer to carry the weight of the whole city. I do not want to get caught up in its struggles. I cannot police everyone. I narrow my gaze, do my own thing, and enjoy the immediate environment
My apartment feels different. I have so much stuff, as if someone broke in while I was gone and filled this space with more clothes and books. With new eyes, I will try to sort, shed, and put away. Tools are important. Everything else can go to a better home.