Bus Report #1072

 Headed in to the office today, my usual time.

Clement Street was black and grey and quiet, and foggy. Perfect pre-Halloween weather, though I'd have been happier with more light out.

It was spooky. The fog, one of my greatest loves, grew heavier as I walked. By the time I hit 6th Ave. it was so thick I couldn't see past the next block. Even a large PG&E truck with bright lights was surrounded by a swirl of fog, muting the light quite a bit.

The woman who sleeps in doorways near 8th was sitting on the curb, shoes off, washing her feet with water from a bottle. She then dried them and applied lotion. All the while, talking to herself as she often does.

She breaks my heart. I'd love to see her get some help. She has survived on our street for over a decade but she deserves peace and security. And warmth beyond the comforter she wraps up in each night. 

Passing Toy Boat I checked to make sure all was well (and it was indeed ship shape). Halloween decorations in the windows and in the store. Down the block, the Beetlejuice shop window at the pet store unnerved me, as it has done all month.

4th Ave and the fog was achieving pea soup levels of thickness. Perfect for a cozy morning, even if I was outside.

The man who sleeps in the doorway of the Japanese restaurant was awake. He lit a cigarette, said good morning.

I smiled, though I'm still very nervous about interacting with strangers after last year. Told him good morning, too.

Kept walking. 

At the bus stop, I couldn't even see past the intersection. Usually I can see buses and cars clear down to California Street, but not today.

I dug my Clipper Card from my bag and waited.

Like a ghost bus in the night, the 33 emerged from the fog and pulled over to let me on.

We zoomed down Arguello and up through the Haight, quiet and still.

In the Castro the sunrise was orange and pink and grey and blue, a perfect Ed Ruscha sunrise especially in Dolores Park above the palm trees.

I hopped out at my usual stop along Potrero. Waved to the guys at the garage and walked the rest of the way to work. 

The park near my office had a layer of fog hovering above it, knee height, and it was beautiful.

Robins hopped in and out of the fog. I stopped to watch them for a moment. Then the fog lifted, and I went upstairs to work.

Bus Report #1071

I was planning to meet Michael and Austin at the SFMOMA on Sunday, so I kept my eye on the 38 and 38R schedule all morning. 

Ran out to catch the 38R, but it was late, of course. Time was ticking.

I chose to get on a regular 38 - which turned out to be a bad choice.

We crawled down Geary. Crawled. I'm not sure why as there wasn't much traffic, but it took 15 minutes to get to Masonic. Ridiculous. 

Then it was start and stop down to Van Ness.

Handsome kid waiting by Laguna, big colorful totebag on his shoulder.

At Gough, a man was camped out in the bus shelter. Started to move, slowly, to gather his things and get on the bus. The driver didn't open the back door, leaving the man and his bags to wait for the next bus.

Tenderloin architecture is a visual feast, and I filled up as we made our way down the hill. Some gorgeous buildings and building facades. Murals to rival anything in the Mission.

We flew the rest of the way  down O'Farrell, but I was already going to be late. Sometimes it happens like that.

Downtown is still so empty, it's weird.

Huge flagship stores on Powell, closed.

Chain cafes, closed.

Normally thronged blocks are now ghost towns.

But things are looking up, too. A few mom and pop places were open and doing brisk business, with their tables set outside.

Newly renovated buildings at Third and Mission looking so good, I practically swooned. Can a woman love new windows cut into old brick? This woman does.

The guys were at the museum before I was, but no harm done.

It was a pleasure to see them, and to be in one of my favorite places.

We saw a few exhibits and then headed out, but not before I stopped to see my favorite painting in the permanent collection.

"You were in and out real fast, huh?" asked the woman checking admissions.

"Just visiting an old friend," I replied.