Embarcadero Reset

On a chilly morning this week, I dropped the kids off at school and jumped on the BART train. I stood holding onto the vertical railing in the center of the car, my Leica tucked inside my jacket pocket, as everyone around me stared at their phones. Half of us wore masks.

I got off the train at the Embarcadero Station in San Francisco and walked west past the piers. I shared the sidewalk with a few joggers and tourists, and I watched the sun get higher behind the Bay Bridge. Once at Pier 39, two women with Irish accents asked me where they could find the sea lions. A sea lion barked and I pointed, "Over there." One of the women said into her phone, "Oh my god, I found them. I could cry." Oh, what fun it is to be a tourist in a new city.

My walk took my past the sea lions, past the USS Pampanito submarine, past an empty Fisherman's Wharf, and to the steps and sandy beach of Aquatic Cove. Immediately, the bright yellow Speedos worn by an elderly Asian man caught my eye. He walked with a cane and a black inner tube wrapped around his neck was tied to the back of his briefs. He stepped out of his sandals at the edge of the sand and waded into the frigid San Francisco Bay water. He swam the butterfly stroke, an impressive feat considering his age, and towed the floating inner tube behind him.

I walked up the steps and across the street to the Buena Vista where I sat at the bar and ordered a coffee (Irish, of course). The bartender was new and recommended I don't order the hash.

I finished the coffee and walked a few blocks to Jones Street where I jumped on one of the historic streetcars of the F Line, the tropical colored No. 1076. I rode the streetcar back along the Embarcadero to the BART station on Market Street. I stepped down the stairs to the underground platform and waited ten minutes for the Yellow train back to the East Bay. The ride back was quiet and smooth. A mom fed her daughter McDonald's nuggets and the sun broke through the clouds as we passed the cranes of the Oakland Harbor.

I arrived back at the school in time to get the kids and we drove home. These short midday strolls have become my brief moments of meditation and reflection. My camera, my two feet, and a few hours of alone time have proved to be enough for a reset.