Pendant que la marée monte / Et que chacun refait ses comptes / J’emmêne au creux de mon ombre / Des poussiêres de toi / Le vent les portera / Tout disparaîtra / Le vent nous portera
A couple snaps from my short stop-over in San Francisco: still beautiful as ever and fast-gentrifying thoroughly-gentrified. Barely enough time to catch up with old friends and have a few drinks in my old neighbourhood haunts.