I'm going to miss this bay

I am equal parts nervous and stoked to leave.
It is time to move my feet, to rattle my cage, to forget my English.
As the fog engulfs the bridge, I'm afraid my mind will fog my memory.
That's the nervous part talking.

The sun soon rises, higher and higher.
And the fog retreats, disappearing into thin air, like Mother Nature's ultimate magic trick.
A catamaran glides under the exposed bridge, and tourists flock for that perfect picture.
The hum of traffic doesn't pollute the blues coming from my headphones.

The ferry building chimes, telling me more than just the hour. Its telling me I can never forget this bay, even if I tried.
I'm going to leave this city.
And love, breath, and walk in another.
That's the stoked part talking.

The City will always be The City.
The bay is my home, my roots firmly rooted.
But its time to see how far they reach, how far my soul goes.

Its time to be mobile.

ps: thanks Tesssica Rabe, for the blog title. more perfect than that picture.