For almost ten years, the North Bay was home. Then I left. On a trip back last December I took these shots from the safe vantage point of the passenger seat. There’s nothing more exciting than the fast clip of the open freeway and the turn of the road, here on the way from Oakland towards and over the Bay Bridge and into San Francisco. Over time you carve a groove into a place. The symbiotic relationship between mind and local place is mental, even “spiritual.” They are still dismantling the old Bay Bridge which loom dark next to the whiteness of the new structure. As I remember it from a distance, my thoughts once felt very much a part of that geography. Thrilled to be back, the Bay Area felt at once familiar and alien.
