I’ve always contended since moving to the Bay Area, that what’s wonderfully unique about San Francisco, unlike any other great American city and what makes it better than most, is what’s outside San Francisco. That’s why I live in Sausalito, a beautiful and quaint town in the hills that could easily pass for a town along the Mediterranean. (Well, that and the fact no place in San Francisco would allow a dog the size of Taylor to move in. Things really do happen for a reason. I would have never been able to enjoy the outdoor beauty of Sausalito nearly as much if Taylor and I had not lucked into living here.)
I am sitting on the dock, having walked past a small beach, and having just finished lunch, a burger at Le Garage with my buddy Brandon. Literally just sitting, feeling the cool breeze under the warm sun, in the distance, I can see a gaggle of geese barking on the walkway next to rows and rows of boats and I can hear seagulls squawking and the low hum of a seaplane up in the bright blue sky nary a cloud and I can hear the whoosh of the slight current from the waters below and even further in the distance conversations between people, strangers to me. Aside from texting my dear friend Thuan, I am alone. It’s a wonderfully quiet moment.
Much of Marin County lends itself to those quiet moments, to deep thoughts. You don’t even have to be a thinker to envelope yourself and be inspired by the beauty all around us in Marin, and truly appreciate it. It’s a gift to be alone to your thoughts. It’s especially a gift to be alone to your thoughts in Sausalito. I think of everything. I think of nothing. I think of both at the same time.
Like Hemingway was so fond of doing, I am writing this while I stand against the wood railings of the dock. I am living. I am all about this moment. I am living in the moment. And I am loving.
Go Adventure. Go Travel. Go Live.
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Secret of My SucCecil 
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