The hills are alive
The hills of San Francisco are alive, not with music, but with wireless signals. I'm on the 12th floor of a hotel in San Francisco - with the windows open to the cool night air. The fog isn't the only thing whose tendrils are drifting in through my window. The air is bouncing with signals - I get 18 wireless signals, so many I'm not even sure which belongs to the hotel! Hence, I am (or at least my laptop is) actually wired to the wall.
I feel a bit like I'm in Shangri-La this morning. The view out the plane window was one of unrelieved white as I flew across the country yesterday. Nary a rock was visible in the Rockies! When we reached the California-Nevada border, I looked out the window to see emerald green rolling hills beneath. It was 78F when I landed in Oakland. It's sunny, warm and almost 80 in San Francisco this morning. Daffodils are in bloom, so are the almond trees. It feels like late spring.
So I bought violet shoes.