The Phoenix

It was 8am on a Sunday morning and in honor of Earth Day I thought I would take public transit to the Marina Green. The rain had finally settled and the sun was out. After trying to simultaneously make coffee, get ready, and look up the bus schedule on 511.org, I realized the 8:30 start time was quickly approaching.

Guilt, as I noted the melting glaciers on Googles masthead, but I could not figure out how far the closest transit stop left me from where I needed to be. My ultimate paradox. I was headed to a benefit 5k so I imagined one good intention might actually even out the other?

Good parking, it was meant to be. I walked with my friend and her family. Never having met the brother she lost to a rare form of blood cancer, I knew that the path before us was like our friendship. Sometimes our presence is enough, just walking along the open trail, the Golden Gate bridge ahead of us, the water to one side and the city to the other. In the open, nature absorbs some of your grief.

As we rounded the corner along Marina Blvd. I noticed a San Francisco Flag hanging from a balcony. They told me it was a phoenix, because the city had risen from the ashes. Symbolic of places and people that rise from an unimaginable and irreversible loss.

I thought about the last year, in relation to the last week, and knew, things were on the rise.