Driving in to work this morning I approached an elevated section of road that runs along the northern edge of San Francisco to the Golden Gate Bridge.  The 30’s era concrete road cut across my vision as a horizontal barrier to the bay.  Yet for one brief moment I caught a glimpse of the Golden Gate Bridge towers reaching up to the sky.  A bright orange flag at the tip of a mast moved across the bay while a kite jumped up briefly only to duck away again.  Once more I saw the kite before the vision was lost and I climbed up onto the concrete mass.  In the background my radio played “para.. para.. paradise”, a wistful reminder of this place.