Each morning

Each morning I bike by the San Francisco Symphony en route to work. On some mornings it is still outside, the arcs of its exterior wall stately in the morning light. On others, like this morning, there are buses lined outside and stampedes of children milling about, accompanied by what always seems to be far too few adults to manage such a crowd. On these mornings I’m shocked and delighted by the sheer number of children. Cities, despite their densely occupied grid of streets, do not always betray their youthful populations to daily commuters. Surely the children are either at home or at school, but they somehow escape our recognition, those of us without kids of our own. The sudden appearance of adolescent multitudes brings a frenzy of excitement and fervor that makes me smile. Especially in San Francisco, a city of overworked technical minds, the vigor and naive wonder of youth would be nice to see more.