David Weir: Magical Time

Sunday, July 22, 2007

Magical Time

When my first child was very young, she believed in magic. She invented entire worlds, some of which were based in nearby Golden Gate Park. (We lived in the Haight.)

At that time and in that place, magic was not necessarily as foolish as it may appear to be today, in an era of irrational rationalism.

In any event, yesterday the gods were on *our* side. Sandwiched between two cold, dark, windy, foggy days, my first-born's wedding day was graced by perfectly gorgeous summer weather.

I like to think that San Francisco, the place, was just paying her back, for growing up here, and casting her beauty so unselfishly over this little peninsula.

Now her home is far away, down on the southern tip of South America, but for Laila, San Francisco will always be home.

Her mom wrote a children's story that I do not think has ever been published that captures the essence of growing up in GG Park.

The wedding and the party afterward were so much fun. As my son-in-law Loic observed, it was a great party since the police showed up, ~2 a.m., responding to complaints about the noise.

Yes!

Last night was the kind of night you wish could never end; the time when everyone and everything is so perfect that if only you could stop time, and preserve the moment, the experience of being alive would be pure ecstasy.