Driving over the bridge this weekend with Harper, the sun was setting into the Pacific as we listened to Bob Dylan playing on our car stereo. We watched drop down towards the ocean through the Gate as we drove over the bridge, then we pulled off at a vista in the Presidio and shared a beer as it sunk into the water below the horizon. You could smell the cedar and the sea. We'd spent the afternoon mountain biking in the Headlands, rolling over hills and out to the ocean beyond. We were both tired, in that deeply satisfied way you can be tired when you've had just enough of a good thing. It was one of the most beautiful moments I've ever had in my life.
