159 sampling the air like fine wine

Yesterday dawned smokey.

Before going for a walk with the dogs, I zoomed in on this map.

It looked like over toward Golden Gate Park the air was a little better, so that's where I went. (It's over a ridge from us, inside the fog line. The city as a whole gets wind every afternoon, but certain microclimates get more. And more wind, at least from off shore, means less smoke.)

On a clear day, you can see the Marin Headlands from here. Yesterday, the view ended at Saint Ignatius, where Deb's dad (and Jerry Brown, they were classmates) graduated from high school about 1955.

So I set off on a little taste test, sniffing now and then.

A lot of the blackberry bushes are drying out, but this north facing shady spot was just hitting its prime.

Passing this sign is always a good reminder.

On Haight Street, this market normally has a bustling parklet outside, they must have had to remove it for the repaving project. 

So let's see very little car traffic, very little pedestrian traffic, closed businesses, but a nicely repaved street. Sounds like we have our priorities in order, and we're all ready for the 20th century.

This bar is a snapshot of March 16th.

This wasn't actually graffiti, this was how this storefront was decorated.

It worked to catch my attention.

I have no idea what the store is called, what they sell, or if they're open in the pandemic. But I know they're edgy!

The city took over the McDonald's by Golden Gate Park by eminent domain. It's long been a tough spot for police, being a place to buy cheap food and catch some shelter next to one of the city's houseless hot spots, and across the street from their park HQ.

The plan was to tear it down and build housing. 

So far, the city has managed to tear it down and erect pop-up shade structures.

The air in the park was indeed more breathable, and I enjoyed a few mask-free moments before turning back.

Here's another anti-houseless tactic that's popular in the city, the high-powered sprinkler.

How cool would it be if every road in the park had this permeable paving? Years ago I read that between streets, rooftops and other paving, 60% of the surface area of San Francisco cannot absorb rain.

Imagine what your body would feel like if you were 60% wrapped in plastic.

Turning back toward home, I walked through Kezar Pavilion. The Rolling Stones and 49ers no longer play here, but it's still a pretty awesome civic space.

Last year about this time we visited the original site of the Olympics, in Greece. The direct lineage between the two spaces was obvious. Despite the passage of 3000 years, we really haven't changed much.

By the afternoon, there was a little more fresh air.

By the evening, they were closed again.

And now, a few quick screencraps 

"But how?" we ask. I don't know. But I suspect your phone does. And if that doesn't make sense, search the archive here for "singularity."

As someone who occasionally remakes a garden, I understand big choices can make big impact, but I do think maybe there's a good point here about respecting tradition. Plus, I'm not sure about whether we really needed to see more columns.

I have seen some criticism about it being weird to "remodel the garden right before you move out," but I can assure you that it is not uncommon. Of course, those clients are usually doing it to increase the sale price, not take a shit on history, but whatever.

It's 2020!

Oh! I almost forgot the biggest news of the day! (At least on Corbett Avenue.)

The bus is running again. Our local route, the crazy 37 that runs everywhich way over Twin Peaks, is part of the expanded core, along with the streetcar lines. (Actually, the 37 used to be a streetcar line, too, but that's a subject for another post.)