Saturday, November 20, 2004

West Cliff was


this morning.

The Pacific Tub was bluer than BB King.

The Turkey Trotters were sweaty and working hard.

The air was cool and snappy.

The hippies were huddled on the Riverfront smoking pot.

The students were out taking lots of data. I must have biked by three separate field-study classes.

The waves were waving, the surfers surfing, the palm trees were swaying. The leaves were falling.

Outside, that room with the big blue ceiling, was


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I blog about life and soup, but mostly soup.