Friday, March 10, 2017

Light at San Fransisco is none of your East Coast light

Palace of Fine Arts - Those are supposed to be Dementors
One of two bldgs remaining from the 1915 Panama-Pacific International Exhibition. 

 same.

Ghirardelli Choco Facto from Hydr St. Pier.

SS Eureka w/ Morgen and Maren on deck. Life saver.

Rope tie-off for ferry

Tug Boat HERCULES

 SS Eureka Anchor

 The Utah

Knot of some sort on deck of SS Baraclutha

Alcatraz Island from shore.

Alioto - Lazio Crab - one of 2 remaining crabbers on Fisherman's Wharf.


some bridge.


Piedmont - Men's drag shop on Haight

Jimi painting on the side of his "Red House' in Haight/Ashbury

Fisherman's wharf Sign

Crab sculpture at Pier 39 entry


 Philadelphia streetcar on San Fransisco - they restore, operate, and maintain streetcars from around the world.

Pier 43?  I heard this was originally built for a big PR thing when Capone went to Alcatraz.


The Changing Light

Lawrence Ferlinghetti, 1919

The changing light
                 at San Francisco
       is none of your East Coast light
                none of your
                            pearly light of Paris
The light of San Francisco
                        is a sea light
                                       an island light
And the light of fog
                   blanketing the hills
          drifting in at night
                      through the Golden Gate
                                       to lie on the city at dawn
And then the halcyon late mornings
       after the fog burns off
            and the sun paints white houses
                                    with the sea light of Greece
                 with sharp clean shadows 
                       making the town look like
                                it had just been painted

But the wind comes up at four o’clock
                                     sweeping the hills

And then the veil of light of early evening

And then another scrim
                  when the new night fog
                                        floats in
And in that vale of light
                      the city drifts
                                    anchorless upon the ocean

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