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.