The wind whips your hair as you fly downhill. Inhale and savor those tall eucalyptus trees dripping with sweetly scented marine moisture. Now pump your legs in rhythm with your breath as you climb. It’s alright, you can curse the headwind that won’t quit as you near that golden bridge. Weave on through the piles of tourists in various stages of vacation emotions. You’re almost there, almost there, almost there, now stop; take in the amazing beauty that surrounds you. My darling San Francisco, some days you are a delicious kiss that tingles my lips for hours after parting. You have my heart; you are my home.