Mr. B and I are off to San Francisco for the next few days to celebrate his birthday. This weekend is all about Mr. B and doing the things he wants to do so tonight we’ll be having dinner at Cafe Claude. It’s a small French bistro tucked away off an alley-like street known as “Claude Lane”. We’ve been to the restaurant only once before but remember enjoying it. It was basic but good. I’ve been a bit MIA on IG but I promise to post if you wish to follow along to see what we stumble upon and what else we have planned. In the meantime, enjoy this poem about San Francisco by George Sterling.
The winds of the Future wait
At the iron walls of her Gate,
And the western ocean breaks in thunder,
And the western stars go slowly under,
And her gaze is ever West
In the dream of her young unrest.
Her sea is a voice that calls,
And her star a voice above,
And her wind a voice on her walls —
My cool, grey city of love. — George Sterling