San Francisco Ferry Building

I dropped off the kids at school and jumped on BART to Embarcadero. The streets seemed empty. A few city workers pressure washed the sidewalk. Locals seemed to have somewhere to be but they weren’t in too big a hurry. For a Thursday morning, the city seemed asleep. I walked from the Embarcadero Station toward the ferry building. Thursdays bring the smallest of the farmer’s markets to the ferry building, and the shops inside weren’t open yet. I browsed the onions and oysters, tried to ignore the fragrance of fresh sourdough bread, and settled on a pour over from Blue Bottle Coffee. I sipped the coffee on the sidewalk between the building and the bay, watching the ferries come and go. The Bay Bridge stretched into Treasure Island. For a short moment, the fog cleared and the heat of the sun beat down on me. The breeze was still and I closed my eyes in the warmth. It was unusually quiet, like the seagulls appreciated the moment as well.