It is a fine thing to have the present keep happening because different parts of the past can dance together in the present, such as near Market and Drumm, near the bay in downtown San Francisco, where on the south side of Market, facing north, is an office building with a bumpy, somewhat decorative, stone-like covering typcial of the first half of the twentieth century, facing, somewhat catty-corner across the street an office building with the sleek glass covering of the second half of the twentieth century.

When the sun shines directly on the glass building, on the north side of the street facing south, but not on the stone building, leaving the stone building's grey in shadow, the sun reflects off the glass onto the bumpy stone surgace across the street in a way that is distorted a bit by being reflecte, up and downed a bit by the bumpty stone facade, and pretty, shards of yellow light on grey.


These hard materials combine with the far-off liquid sun to make irregular shapes, like shapes produced in the soft parts of nature, like short rills of water running on the woodland floor, like the top layer of changing organic stuff ling on the humus, shapes like future humus, drying petals, broken leaves on the flat side of a downtown building, and we, rounded on the outside, sloshy within, can watch them, some days, glimmer.