A lime tree grows in Dogtown. (Gratuitous picture of myself enjoying the fruits of West Oakland).
There is nighttime enchantment secret boarded up in warehouses, behind corrugated gates. Now you know there’s more space to explore than you thought the first time driving the block. On the other side of this bleak concrete, behind that fence chickens are laying and limes patiently wait for you to pick them from the branches. I want to stay here outside forever, and keep my eyes and mouth open longer. Oakland at night smells like jasmine and tastes like beehoney. It sounds like friends in a fox pup floor pile, like faraway laughing and breathing together.
Thanks to pforu for the portrait and the companionship. Adventures soon, I hope.