Today was Northern California May Day, at an alumna's gorgeous home up in the Sonoma Valley. The event itself was really enjoyable -- great to see lots of folks I hadn't seen in awhile; why do I keep letting myself fall out of the BMC loop? -- and on the drive home, I found myself getting nostalgic for Sonoma County: the green hills just starting to shade into gold, fields of grapes stretching away from gently curving highways. I don't expect I'll ever live up in Santa Rosa or Sonoma County again, but there's a way in which it still feels like home to me, and sometimes I miss it.
And then an hour or so later, driving down 101, I came out of the rainbow tunnels to the view of the Golden Gate bridge and the city spread out before me, and the sight of it brought a goofy huge grin to my face, as it so often does. Sonoma County may always be my old home, but San Francisco is where the heart is.
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