Leaving My Heart In San Francisco (Again)

It seems that every time I visit San Francisco, I fall in love all over again. I once was fortunate enough to live in the city (as it is affectionately called) for seven years, and it still retains a special place in my heart. I'm not sure what I love more-- each neighborhood with its own unique personality or the open-minded attitude of many of its residents-- San Francisco is high on my list of towns I would love to live in again.

During the time I lived here I moved all over the city-- from the Outer Mission to Twin Peaks, then on to the Panhandle, crisscrossing across the city to South of Market, and finally up to Potrero Hill. And during that time I had never visited Lincoln Park, a beautiful piece of land on the northwestern corner of the city that was dedicated to President Abraham Lincoln in 1909. I was interested to discover that the land on which it stands was a cemetery in use in the 1860s, and in 1902 it was turned into a golf course. There was certainly no denying an eerie feeling as the sounds of fog horns filled the air, and I imagined this serene setting transformed into a graveyard filled with fog.

But the day was too beautiful and the sky too blue to linger on these thoughts for too long-- I was eager to explore this place I'd never visited before. Lincoln Park is located next to the Legion of Honor, and I was thrilled by the numerous views of the city. On one side was the Golden Gate Bridge, and on the other you could view downtown and City Hall. Even though I haven't left yet, I am already missing this magical city, this place that never ceases to amaze me. I promise myself that I will be back, that I will not wait so long this time. San Francisco is singing her siren's song, and I am listening.