Take me back to the city by the bay. To the gray, misty skies. To the foggy roads and the chilly beaches. To the endless stretch of calm ocean, and the little sailboats that float amongst each other. To the sound of the seagulls and the wind blowing. To the thrilling feeling of riding a cable car down a steep hill, while facing backwards. To the free samples of bruschetta and cheeses inside the Ferry Building. To the little markets that overflow with fresh fruits and colorful flowers. To the non-stop consumption of seafood dishes. To the light rain that fell in certain areas, and the glorious sunshine that glowed in other areas. To the exciting baseball games, and the exceptional view that accompanied them. To the musicians on the street, and the hobos with pet cats. To the little cafes. To the Bohemian-style, alluringly unique clothing. To the hundreds of marijuana references. To the murals on the buildings. To the seals on Pier 39. To the scent of sourdough bread wafting in and out of the hustle and bustle of Fisherman's Wharf. To all the local bands and projects. To the creative spirit. To the acceptance of homosexuality and self-expression. To the winding roads and the Painted Ladies and the colorful head shops in Haight-Ashbury and the green fields with people napping under the trees and the magenta sunsets and the rooftop yoga classes and the magic that always surrounded me.

Take me back to San Francisco.