Alone Again

    I am a country boy in the city.  Having my brother here helped me feel at home, but now he is on a plane.  On this cloudy morning after dropping him off at the San Francisco International Airport, I watched the light of the new day come back.  I stood at the edge of the bay next to a fire ring that was still piping hot and glowing from the night.  As I stood there breathing, thinking, and praying I felt the world in a different way.  I thought of all the chances I was given to strengthen our relationship on our adventure, and how the time came and went.  I wondered about all the bums downtown and how they made it through, and wished there was something to do for them.  I remembered my dreams of travelling west and how I felt now that it came true.  The night before we stayed at a hostel in downtown San Francisco.  As I went to put quartes into the parking meter, I was reminded that parking on Sunday was free, and almost immediately two or three voices asked for the change.  I split the four coins between my hands and dropped it into two outstretched hands. Then in the morning these people were still roaming the streets, not sleeping, the crazed look still in their eyes.  
    At the hostel we met a cool kid from Toronto, Ontario, who had hitchhiked around the country with some friends, who, having already returned to Montreal, left him on his own.  He seemed to love travelling, and said that his next trip would be to India for a year.  I told him I'd like to visit Toronto, the biggest city in Canada, and he said I could stay with him.  I enjoyed hearing his hitchhiking stories and he asked about West Virginia.  I was going to spend the day with him but when I returned in the morning to check out of the hostel, the parking being too expensive, I had to move on. 
    I napped in my car, since we got up at 5, then got out to walk around.  I realized I was in the same part of town we had stopped at yesterday, in a Starbucks where we had met Kellog, a movie script writer.  Sure enough he is here, looking like he is trying to pull ideas out of the air.  One Americano and I feel awake, ready to explore. 
    So here I am, my first day alone in San Francisco, trying to flow with the city.  There are people from every part of the world here, and lots of them.  As much as I would like to be in the woods somewhere, I know I don't want to rush out of the city.  While I am here I hope to skate, meet people, and learn the city life.  The hardest part is finding somewhere to park, then finding some way to have fun without spending all my money.  I am going to a library after this to spend time reading, something I have not done much of travelling.  I know one thing; this city is full of life, and I have a new love for overpopulated streets and ethnic restaurants.