From the old ferry slips, a view of the hill that used to telegraph ship arrivals. Now it's the most unique neighborhood.
A market was on that morning, full of food and happy people. Two, anyway, once we got our curry sausage sandwiches. The sunshine poured through the cool air like honey.
Inside the Ferry Building itself, not like its old self. My mother remembers the room where'd they show newsreels while you wait to board. I remember faceless office spaces when the refinery I worked at held a Christmas party. Now an upscale food market, full of people and color.
Outside again, the usual. These guys played well, but their harmony was, shall we say, untutored.
A beautiful day for a cruise round the Bay.
And making memories.
3 comments:
I grew up in the shadow of the Embarcadero Freeway. Wasn't so bad a spot, never had a problem. Mom worked for years on Harrison St., for American Can Company.
To sum up... sometimes I miss the grittiness of old. Now it's a lot like Disneyland, as is Times Square.
We sometimes wander down to the Ferry Building and stop at Boccalone for their Coppa di Testa and at Acme Bread for a sour bâtard. After the walk home, we settle in our chairs at the windows with the Coppa, the bread, a little jar of Boccalone whole grain mustard, and a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc. Picnic dinner! Cook's night out!
Nice photo of Coit Tower! Our place is the angled patch of blue between the two flag poles. The blue is the back wall of our deck on the top level. The two matching levels of windows underneath are ours as well. Beneath that is our downstairs neighbors' place.
Post a Comment