Art deco apartment house downtown on Mason Street in San Francisco on an Indian Summer afternoon in September. I met my friend at his flat on Leavenworth to admire his new slim hallway bookshelves done in some kind of black metal. They are actually made to fit DVD cases, but equally suit the overflowing collection of paperback poetry books. I advised him to get two more units, to fill the whole length of the hall, because he will fill them eventually and they might as well match.
We set out from his place and walked up Nob Hill and down the other side, with the Golden Gate Bridge and Alcatraz spread out under us in Maxfield Parrish colors. The tourists were trying to photograph these views, but to me the postcards can do that kind of thing better. Instead I stopped to shoot this family of box-hedge beings –
My friend counted the box-hedge children, who amounted to a great number, I don't remember how many. We skirted the west end of Fisherman's Wharf, and crossed along the water to Fort Mason, and then struck back along Gough. We crossed Union Street, remarking on the Yankee austerities of the Octagon House. Then entered Allyn Park, shaded by sequoias and laurels on this bright day. I liked the glow of the flowers and foliage under the trees.
