There's not a lot of air conditioning here in San Francisco, probably because the climate just doesn't call for it. Still, we were a little surprised to find our hotel room equipped with a ceiling fan and big, double hung windows that open wide. On the ninth and top floor of our circa 1910 building, our room looks east over a painted iron fire escape and a gorgeous city scape. During the day, the bay peeks out from between buildings, but at night the view is even better in some ways.
Last night after we turned the lights out, I sat for a while at the window. The thrum and muffle of the streets rose up and into the room on the cool night air. Occasionally a car horn or clear phrase voiced by an invisible person pierced the steady hum. Hundreds of windows lit the skyline, some shaded or too far away to be anything other than light, others with visible details: here a stove, there a lamp, a TV, an empty chair, a man brushing his teeth.
I sat in the darkness, city above, city below, and then surrounded by the city and its sounds I slipped into bed and slept.