And I don't mean old Terry Gross on NPR.
One of the pleasures of life in San Francisco in the spring and summer and fall is the wind that blows up in the late afternoon, bringing air from the Pacific --which is just under 4 miles away as the crow flies--into the neighborhood here in the valley and into my house. It's cool, to be sure, and can drop the temp about 15 degrees in as many minutes. But it has a clean fresh-made never-before-breathed quality to it that is always a pleasure.
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