
With the Autumn Equinox now behind us, the quality of light in California is definitely changing. It reflects the weird place I've been in my head recently -- both physically (with non-cooperative sinuses) and emotionally (with a weird mix of impending dread and optimistic anticipation). It's also a reminder of how out of sync I usually am with the rest of the world since I tend to be sedentary in the summer when i want to be inside away from sun and heat and outside and physically active in the fall and winter when the weather begs for movement, being kissed by cool breezes and sun that is
invigorating but not blinding.
Now that fall is here, I am back in a regular evening routine of walking to the top of
Bernal Hill near sunset. Although I technically live in the Mission, I am two blocks away from both
Bernal and
Potrero hills. At times like this or when I have a contemplative moment in the back yard, I often focus my thoughts on the sound of 101 which also is about two blocks away. At that distance and with chirping birds around me, it can take on the characteristics of a steady river, albeit churning out carbon monoxide fumes. Here's this evening's walk.

Though much of of my street has its dodgy parts and a weird mix of eras and designs, this particular stretch in the next block when viewed out of context could pass for the Marina. Even the cars are starting to move up a few notches on the social register.

Here in Rolph Playground which is being renovated, a sure sign of the coming gentrification or apocalypse or both is the arrival of new palm trees. What is it about palm trees that makes properties jump into the seven figures?

Junk gardens may be a tad passe, but I always enjoy this one when going up the hill.

I like the sentiment. Come to think of it, I'm pretty sure I've
met this guy. I wish I still had his card. Besides all the other amenities he had the complete Bessie Smith catalog. Always a good sign.

The reflected sunset and body art work escaped me as I shot this but were a pleasant surprise to see when I came home.

Approaching the upper rim of
Bernal Hill, an evening walk is usually greeted by the smell of dog droppings and happy families walking their children and canines. This is they way I enjoy both -- at arms distance, for a couple seconds of being able to smile at them and then getting on my way once they start barking, screaming or pooping.

When the
One Rincon Hill towers on the right near the Bay Bridge is complete, it will transform the skyline to look eerily similar to that of
The Towering Inferno. 
Though I hope I have a good amount of time before I have to plan my tombstone, I think this would be spot on. It comes closest to summing up my sentiments on appropriate relationships with humans and other mammals.
Labels: Bernal Heights, San Francisco, The Mission