A Lady in London

People always ask me how I cope with jet lag. Somehow they assume that after traveling non-stop for five years, I have developed an immunity to the travel-induced cycle of narcolepsy and insomnia. Truth is, I haven’t. And I use that to my advantage when I watch the sunrise in San Francisco.

The first few days of any trip home always mean struggling to stay awake past 8pm and springing out of bed at 6am.

Given that the sunrise takes place around 6:40am this time of year, that gives me plenty of time to get out of bed and onto the roof deck of my apartment building in the Marina before the main event.

This week was one of those occasions, and I got lucky the other morning with a spectacular sunrise. Swirling clouds, pink and yellow skies, and flocks of birds all played their roles.

As the sun came up behind the Transamerica Pyramid and the Bank of America Building, I watched the sky change colors from deep purple to bright gold in the quiet sound of silence.

Watching the sunrise was a rare moment in a city as busy as San Francisco, and one of the few occasions on my travels on which I was glad I couldn’t cope with jet lag.