Greater Love

I promised more photos of sacred places in San Francisco. I know of no place more sacred than the Presidio Cemetery, which is where my 4th of July began this year. It was early morning and I was alone but for robins and stone.



I always cry in these places. I've tried not to. Can't. Too many fathers and mothers, daughters and sons and spouses facing the day they prayed would never come. It compels reverence like nothing else I know: immediate, profound, absolute. My heart even seems to beat more quietly, as if thumping in its normal rhythm is out of place, disrespectful. I feel pedestrian. What can I possibly do in the face of this sacrifice?



Today, two thoughts seem to help. The first: I will never take my freedoms for granted. Ever. And I will use them as responsibly as I am able. It does not seem like much of an offering, I know, but it is what I can do.

The second comes from scripture:

"Therefore doth my Father love me, because I lay down my life . . . . Greater love hath no man than this, that he lay down his life for his friends." (John 10:13, 15:13)

And so today I began in the presence of those loved by God. I know that on some levels that can seem so ironic. But the spirit of this place commands otherwise: what a hallowed, humbling, giving place it is.



The evening was much less contemplative but also very wonderful. Our dear Johnsons (plus Emma Cole!) came over to barbeque, and then we headed up Old St. Hillary's preserve, from whence we watched the fireworks in Martinez, Richmond, Oakland, Emeryville, San Francisco and Sausalito. A few pics of a great night below.