phone full of flowers

alameda is barely an island; it's that close to oakland. it only became an island in 1902, when a canal was dredged between oakland and alameda. alameda is very short spanning north-south and longer east-west-wise. from east to west, several streets run through most of the island, including the bicycle boulevard, pacific ave. not very trafficked by cars, pacific has always been a favorite of mine to walk and bike. it leads to the farmers' market on saturdays. part-way down is the purple victorian on the corner, with the dogs that hang out in the bay window. it leads to my house from the ferry terminal on the days i make the extra time to take the ferry and bicycle from SF, instead of the bus. and, it led to her house.

it used to be that she lived on one end of pacific and i on the other. (it is probably still that way.) that strip of street between us became the site of many strong emotions for me. in the beginning, excitement, nerves, fear, desire. and i rode my bicycle letting go and trying to let go of my fears. open. singing to calm myself. later, on early mornings when i went home to feed pinky leon before scrambling to work, almost no one stirred on pacific, except sleepy dog walkers sometimes wishing good mornings. the air sparkly with dawn light. happy, happy. 

i rode down it when we first met in the middle, at a bar. nerve wracked, but also with a what the hell attitude, for once. at some point, i rode down it late at night, fast, fast, full of love, the street dark and empty until a small old car thumping music drove past, and a guy yelled "i love you!" at me. is it that obvious, even in the dark? i wondered. elation. another time in the late afternoon heading her way, three kids ran in front of my bicycle on purpose, giggling madly as i swerved this way and that and rang my bell to their delight. joy. and then the night i knew i should not be bicycling down pacific. the night i kept thinking i should turn around, that she didn't really want me to come over. sick to my stomach and a need to know why/what was going on. (i will try to forgive you, pacific avenue.) i have ridden down pacific slower and more meandering than i have ever ridden a bicycle, not wanting to go home. and i have ridden faster than i have ever ridden, energy overflowing. i have bicycled down it many times with a huge smile on my face.  

lately, there is only so far i will go on pacific. still, it is a good street. 


it seems with so few blog readers these days, i am back to writing things that will probably make me cringe...