The other night, after FaceTiming with my nieces, a realization struck me – the sun was about to set and that night was a full moon. Shooting up out of my bed, I knew there was only one place I wanted to go – this little secret spot I discovered on one of my many afternoon strolls through the city. One day, I’d stumbled across George Sterling Park, which I soon realized (after climbing three sets of steep stairs) had one of the best views of the Golden Gate in the city. That’s the thing about San Francisco, you always have to work to get anywhere – but once you do it’s 100% worth it – the views from the tops of the hills in this city are breathtaking. After staring at the view for a while, I left the park, and walked uphill even farther until I reached Lombard (aka the windiest road in the world). Instead of walking down it’s twist and turns, I went the opposite direction down Hyde towards Fisherman’s Wharf. I don’t know what made me turn left at the unassuming sidewalk in front of the Norwegian Church, but my life will be forever changed because I did. What seems like a sidewalk leading to nowhere (except someones yard that I was undoubtedly trespassing on) led to an incredible panoramic view of the city like I had never seen before. In the daylight it was spectacular, and that night, with the full moon, I knew it would be even more amazing. I have to say, despite how happy I am with how these pictures turned out, it could never replicate the feeling of standing on that random concrete path in some rich person’s yard and thinking what a magical place this city is and how blessed I am to even witness the beauty it holds.

The beginning of November was a whirlwind for me. After accepting an awesome job offer, I jetted back to the East Coast for the first time in three months to spend some time with my family before the hustle and bustle of the real world began. Ten days at home was just what I needed – I was able to enjoy an early Thanksgiving feast with my family, have a sleepover with my nieces, go out in DC with my best friends from college, and get some quality rest. Perhaps my favorite part of being home (other than driving my beloved yellow submarine) was basking in the glory of the East Coast autumn. On my first full afternoon home, I took a long walk down the road I grew up on, which I used to run all the time when I lived there. Back then, I needed my iPod blaring in order to be motivated enough to run the full three mile loop, but this time I left my headphones at home. After living in a city for a while, something about the quiet stillness of country life is inexplicably appealing and I didn’t want anything to get in the way of me enjoying it.

The weather in San Francisco is sort of always the same. Days are always cool and brisk, the sun always shines at some point, and more often than not, the fog rolls in by mid-evening, blanketing the streets in mist. So when my sister asked the other afternoon on the phone if it was turning to fall here, I couldn’t really say yes or no for sure. It’s kind of always fall here except for the foliage – some leaves change but for the most part, flowers are still blooming and trees are still green. But yesterday morning, I made a point of taking a really long stroll around the city to see what true signs of fall I could find. And I’m happy to report that I found stoops decorated with pumpkins, mums planted in flower pots, and fake spiderwebs lining the bushes – just like back East.