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May 31, 2002
I can hear a train whistle blowing outside, just over the whining electricity of the street lamp. But I can’t trust my ears because I don’t believe there are trains in San Francisco. Besides subways and light rails, but these don’t have deep bellowing horns that blow over the hill on gusts of wind. Maybe it’s the foghorn in the bay, one of my favorite sounds in context. Foghorn booms at night, approximately 4 miles away through the fog. And cellos are also wonderful, my undying devotion to the first person who makes me a tape of cellos and foghorns.