Exultation wells up approaching the Bay Bridge
Uncovering the uncanny in the quotidian, your Flaneur concludes with a recapitulation. Another circular chapter in the narrative of a single day.
January had been dry and mild, and I made two crossings at the beginning of the year. 31 January 2014 seemed like it may have been the last of the exceptionally warm days. But I missed my shot and since weekend Ferry service is suspended in January and February, my next chance came on 4 February.
It was still quite mild but the weather was changing. A chilly snap happened the next day. This day was somewhat cold in mid-Bay yet overall it was a day with a warm center to it. The transitional weather came with vast cloudscapes, sweeping and poignant.
I pulled in to my usual dockside haunts
It's sort of a kookie California scene, but that's what we dig
Very high tide, the oceans begins to overwhelm
the water was so cold the bones of my feet momentarily petrified
It felt like riding a motorcycle across the Golden Gate bridge
while wearing sandals
After a stout ale and some MK Ultra herbal medicine
I was feeling a little anchorless as I sauntered over to the Pier
There I discovered a mirror on the past
It seems that long ago these guys showed up
Not long after that these cats were gone from the picture
High Tide and green grass, the clock says it's time to depart
(The green trees and elevation are Fort Mason,
next comes Aquatic Park with the Maritime Museum,
behind it is the commercial Ghiradelli Square,
lastly the high-rise eyesore memorializes the City's political machine.)
Now as then, the beaky ladies of the Wharf look on
They are as sharp as gulls and they miss nothing
"with me ragged old bag on me shoulder"
The Bay awaits the traveller
Nothing remains but the souvenirs
Back under the portentous bridge
next week they are changing its name to honor Willie Mays
Just before the atomic sunset
looking back, leaning toward sleep,
the afternoon a half-remembered dream
4 February 2014
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