One Little Tree in a Great Big City

Breakfast. I like to cook, mainly for others, but as I'm living alone, I'm learning to like cooking for myself.



From nearby Franklin Square, just above the site of the original big-league baseball park here in San Francisco, Seals Stadium, and the place the Giants first played when they changed their first name from "New York" to "San Francisco," you can see the lights above what is now known as AT&T Park, which is the pretty field on the edge of San Francisco Bay.



Some ten years ago, I planted this small tree in front of the house where we then lived -- my then-wife, three tiny kidlets, and me. I walk by it every time I accompany my 14-year-old on his dog-walking duties. That's one of my pleasures as an unemployed fellow -- 'special time' with each of my kids.

He and I walk and we talk, while the dogs do what dogs do on a walk, much of which is frankly disgusting and some of the rest downright cute. It is nice to see it there, thriving (the tree, that is).

One small sign that I had an impact.

I imagine many others share this feeling when they see something growing thanks to their hand...

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