I remember, when I lived on 14th & Valencia, getting up at 3:45 in the morning and riding bikes with my friends down to the piers, boarding a free ferry to Alcatraz, hiking through the assembled morning people, the San Franciscans, then sitting at the bottom of an ice plant covered hill on park benches in silence, listening to the gathered singers and dancers outside their buckskin teepee on the flat cement up and behind us, sage and incense wafting in the air, as the sun slowly rose golden from the ocean and my breath dissipated in front of my warming face, a wish for healing prominent in my mind.
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