Juxtaposition

When I went to bed last night I knew the moon would be precisely full just after 1 a.m. west coast time. 

Autosuggestion can be powerful, I woke up with the bright white orb hanging high over San Francisco casting a bright white spot across the floor below my west facing windows. I stood in the cold glow and let my mind wander - all the light of the moon is reflected. Unlike the sun, the moon is cold with no thermal activity, it sheds no light of its own. I didn't bother with my glasses, I just stood in the light. Eventually a chill set in and I crawled back under the covers.

Something woke me just after five. By then the moon was low on the horizon and my entire bed was flooded with white light. I stepped to the windows again and noticed the moon had begun to take on an orange hue as it set into the marine layer. There were nearby clouds drifting from the north, wait that might be steam from that plant near the bay or smoke - what the hell!

I went to retrieve my glasses because there were flames. Yep that building was on fire! Just then the engine sirens started up from the firehouse down on Shattuck. That building was only a couple of blocks from where I stood and those flames were really starting to build. Soon the television copters arrived and the early morning news shows reported a six unit apartment building was fully involved.

As I watched the morning brighten into dawn, the orange moon set slowly into the Marin headlands across the Bay through the morning mist rising off the sun warmed water and the billowing smoke from the nearby apartment fire.

More juxtaposition tomorrow.

The Last Six Months Out My Window

I wish I could put into words how dramatic this nightfall was. Every aspect of the Bay, the Bridges, The City turned shades of grey. Everything became crystal clear, the water of San Francisco Bay was a sheet of granite. Before the nightlights took over the view was frozen in whites, greys and blacks.

These are all shots from the Berkeley apartment

where I lay my weary head each night

here the Golden Gate Bridge

from ten miles away

sunsets come in shades of purple

whiter shades of pale

grays & greys

the black paper silhouette SF skyline

I wrote about a few weeks ago

The Hour After

Photographers call the light just before sunset - "the magic hour." The low, saturated illumination makes for memorable images. From my perch high above Berkeley with the panoramic view of San Francisco Bay I have a slightly different take on the lights of the evening. I often walk in the neighborhood during that last hour of waning light at sea level but I like to get back to the eighth floor for the view that follows.  You see after the neighborhood down below falls into darkness the sky is still bathed in color up here. Sure sometimes the fog blots out the light or the sun sets into a marine layer but tonight was one of those meteorologically perfect combinations of light and high cloudless sky.

At this time of year the sun sets directly behind the skyline of San Francisco. For a time the city is backlit in brilliant orange that slowly darkens to blood red. The skyline appears as if cut from black silhouette paper and the bridges stand out with only their lights to define them.

Tonight the air was calm making the clarity of the scene so acute, as if an opthamologist were flipping another lens tweaking ever more intensity into the picture with each passing moment. At times like these I feel a strong sense of loneliness, not so much that I am alone in the world but rather that there is no one sharing this brilliant visual sensation. As if the sight were really too much for one person to behold. Shared vision, shared awe.

--

these are not my droids, nor my photos

A Shaky Golden Gate Sunset

 

Today a break from what one reader has called my "unrelenting reliving of those political hippy years of long ago." That's not my photo above but it is as close as I could find to last evening's sunset. Twice a year the sun passes behind the Golden Gate Bridge, at least is does from my windows in Berkeley. Yesterday was one of those, it takes about six days for the sun to complete it's transit behind the bridge north to south in the fall and south to north in the spring. Most of those sunsets are swallowed in the persistent fog banks of San Francisco Bay or an offshore marine layer. But once in a great while the sky is clear enough for the sun to set into the ocean and outline the twin spires of the Golden Gate Bridge. Then the sky flares orange and backlights the bridge. Very spirit lifting.

On another 'note from nature' - no earthquakes today. Yesterday, there were two; not particularly large, 4.0 and 3.8 but the first one was just under 2 miles from my apartment and the second less than a mile. I've been in bigger quakes but not quite this close. From up in my 8th floor perch I can tell you there was definitely some rockin' & rollin', water splashin' plus tennis shoes, wallet and keys were set out before I went to bed last night.

[Morning update: spoke too soon, three aftershocks overnight - 1.3, 2.5, 2.8.]

Seeking SWF with Big Lens

I have been seeking that someone special for a very long time. Most recently I have updated my "needs list" to include a woman who has a good camera with a big telephoto lens. You see I have this really big view and I just can't capture it with my really tiny instrument...

What do I have to offer? In no particular order: big bed, big stories, big brain and this really big view.

On a clear day - the Bay Bridge and San Francisco.

Bay Area weather is nothing if not changeable.

and since we view is due West . . .

Among other things, the woman of my dreams should possess: photoshop and a enormous level of acceptance of over-the-top metaphors.

I would also add that I am about to embark on another of my periodic road trips. This one begins in two weeks and will last a bit over two months. More on that later, including my big reveal on my new approach to online dating, which I will implement upon my return to the Bay area later this fall.

Tomorrow - the writing that led to this week's focus on relationships.

Apartment with a View

A regular reader pointed out that I have not shared any window gazing from my high perch here in Berkeley; at least not recently. So today a few peeks or peaks from my windows on the San Francisco Bay. The first shot above will be familiar to many Bay Area residents and summer visitors - the fog.

For those who haven't read my previous ruminations on my view, the City of San Francisco is out there about ten miles, that's Treasure Island and the Bay Bridge in the middle ground halfway across the Bay. 

[on most computers you can click on the picture to get a bigger & better view]

Just to the right/north of the city picture are the twin spires of the Golden Gate Bridge.

Here's a shot of the City on a bluer day.

...and then there is the ever changing light from the western sky, here giving the Golden Gate some backlighting.

To the north, further right, are the Marin Headlands and Mt. Tamalpais; in the summer months the sun sets around the peaks.

 Sometimes gold.

other times...

When A View Is Not A View

I have spoked of my apartment view often in the past, perhaps a bit too often. Please note there have been no pictures from my window since I returned to the apartment after the remodel. Speaking of the remodel, while I have been back in the apartment for over two months the final piece of the remodeling was completed just a week ago - the window treatment as the decorators like to refer to it. Or the blinds as us normal folk say.

You see the apartment has a stretch of windows nearly 25 feet across. Big windows from the ceiling to about three feet above the floor. A huge amount of glass, the aforementioned panoramic view and in the afternoon a whole big bunch of sunlight. Without something on the windows there would be no working in the afternoon or early evening as the view is due west and blindingly bright. And, of course, I have my desk right up against the windows so the view is always right there for me to enjoy, ponder and meditate upon. Temperature is only an issue a dozen days a year in the temperate northern california climate, light is the really big concern. So I lobbied for and got vertical blinds. They can stand up to being adjusted as often as five or six times every day, I can tweak them to block light but still let me have the view. Sturdy, functional slats unlike those flimsy running material sheer blinds that look so elegant, but block the view entirely and can't stand up to heavy duty usage day after day.

An interesting thing happened the first day the blinds were in. I closed them and the apartment became a completely different space. The huge view draws me out, the immense wall of blocking blinds wombs me in. The word "cave" will have popped into several of my friends thoughts about now, yes I have my cave again. But the visuals out the windows are compelling and now malleable. I can completely block the light streaming over the desk and still have wide open views both right and left. I can tweak the openings between the slats to limit light but still keep the view (amazing what binocular vision and the human brain can do with partial information). And, yes, the hibernating bear can close off the view entirely and retreat into the cave - after all Plato did it.

--
photo: sfgate.com

A Black Ballet

I don't know what it was that day perhaps the blustery wind or the off-and-on rain. The Bay was churned an eerie pale green. But it was the crows that told me it was an out-of-the-ordinary day. I often see the flights of blackbirds playing between my windows and the nearby Bay. As many as a score soaring together or several pairs sometimes a foursome then two couplets. I had thought for several weeks that they were perching on the roof just two floors above me, why else would they heighten their flight as they approached my view, most times they simply flew around my tower.

A strong gust of wind pummeled the window drawing my sight up from the screen; six perhaps seven crows were being blown towards me. They all kilted their wings at the same moment and arched up to be carried just a few feet above the roof, had they stayed in that turn they would almost immediately reappear high above my view, but they did not. They must have landed on the roof deck, today would be the day to check for their presence.

Still staring out to the Bay suddenly three black flashes swooped through my view, they had perch on the roof's edge and then leapt off into the strong updraft along the buildings face. They plummeted mere feet from my window and then soaring upward yards further away. Another pair did the same but pulled out of their fall almost immediately and were for a moment suspended six feet in front of my eyes.

A had a few moments to language my awe when the final bird glided out in a long, slow arch straight towards the west. This final flyer raises a ruckus with sharp, piercing caws that seem to draw the other crows up as they formed a flight of five, then eight, then many birds. Several blocks from my view, halfway to the Bay there stands one lone group of pines taller than all the rest, the flight wheeled around tight around those trees and did not come out on the other side. Clearly, it was intermission.

--
art: "Crows in Flight" by Ron Jones

Sunsets

The Landlady demands a monthly post about the view or the rent goes up.

Yes every single evening.

This is the view when I lift my eyes from the laptop.

the sun slips further south each evening...

All dinner reservations are "after sunset"

A few minutes after this shot the clouds went dark red, the reflection turned the fog layer on the bay light pink for just a few incredible moments. Alas my camera could not capture that light

Even the cloud cover is cool.

San Francisco open your golden gate

Innards of an Attic

Because my view is from the eighth floor in a neighborhood of one and two story homes and apartments, I get to see all the roof action. There is the gentleman in the apartments below who gets up on the flat roof about once a week and exercises facing the sun. He does large arm swings and a bit of quiet meditation, he reminds of an old friend who likes to take a sun bath each morning. 

Another flat-roofed apartment about a block away has had roof leak issues, I know this because after every rain storm a maintenance man gets up there and sweeps away the pooled water. Many of the flat roofs have large puddles after a storm but only this one has a depuddler on duty.

Unfortunately no naked sunbathers in view, in fact no tanners at all; white, well-educated folks tend to be unanimously pale. There is a one story cement block garage a block away that serves as the daytime haunts of a big yellow cat, he prowls the roof and often naps under some low hanging branches from a nearby tree which also serves as his ladder. 

And then there is the large two-story wood shingled house across the street to the south. There are a couple of residents on the second floor but the building also serves as the offices for a low-income housing advocacy group. Several weeks ago a small group of workers swarmed the roof one morning and began to remove shingles on the far side, I suspected a roof patching job was in progress. The next day there was a lot of inspecting and discussion with roofers and periodic others poking their heads out from the attic through a six-by-six hole. A decision must have been reached because on day three the roofers denuded first the far side of the roof and then the side facing my view. All that was left were the ribs of the roof.

Laid out before me were the treasures of an entire attic. At the top of the staircase were filing cabinets then several rows of boxes with access aisles. This corner of the attic clearly supported the housing group. This was an attic being used as opposed to the cluttered storage in which many such spaces exist. The other three quarters of the space were what we would all expect an attic to be. There were random pieces of furniture, sloppily packed boxes, crates and bags of all sorts.

Somehow exposing the contents of the entire attic to full sunlight stirred something primal in the house residents, because soon a giant sort and discard movement began. The roofers danced above the house while a cleaning crew removed, recycled and rearranged the inside space. As the new shingles were applied a large space had been carved out in the middle of the attic, soon blanketed in a huge oriental carpet. Then two now empty dressers were positioned, a large reading chair and lamp but still a large open space remained in the middle. The new roof closed off my interior view but there was left a wide gap framed out for what had to be a new skylight.

The day the assembled skylight was installed was also the day the new bed arrived and was hoisted up three stories to the newly formed bedroom/reading room in the attic. I suppose low-income housing policy ranks human space above storage space. The winter rains on the skylight should be a comforting sound to fall asleep beneath.

A Doh! Sunset

Just forty-five minutes before sunset the cloud layer lifts and there is the bridge with a light blue and pink sky behind it. This is the sunset that will align perfectly with the bridge, lo and behold this might actually happen!

Slowly the golden streaks of sunlight intensify the overcast holds high above the Bay, even with my meager little camera this could be the event I have been blathering about for weeks. 

Yes! A solar appearance and with this angle of decline the sun will appear to be setting right smack in the middle of the bridge, it will actually be cradled between the two towers. Tolkienian prose leaps to mind.

Wait! What is that large dark bank of clouds. Quick check the weather website. Weekend storm moving in -- marine layer 35 miles off shore. Quick mathematical calculation: marine layer 35 miles away, sun 92,875,414 miles away. Hmm, that is going to cause a juxtapositional problem.

Damn! Foiled again by water vapor.

One Last Weather Post

With the forecast steady for partly cloudy days and evening fog followed by weekend showers, I will make this the last lament about missed sun, moon and bridge observations.

The shot above is from last night just before sunset, framed in that dim pink swath just above the water is the Golden Gate Bridge, trust me. The shot below is from about fifteen minutes later the very faint line across the sun is one of the cables from the bridge. Yes to the naked eye and the binocular assisted view it was a very nice image.

Next post, I shall return to those thrilling days of yesteryear when I blather on about whatever comes to mind, heart, soul or spleen.

Oh and the moonrise was brilliant last night, I was out in North Berkeley and got a perfect view of the gibbous moon slipping in and out of the high clouds but that was far to the east, by the time the moon had swung across the sky to my windowed western view, twas nary a shimmer behind the grey.

Twilight Time, to dream awhile

In veils of deepening gloom

As fantasy strides over colourful skies

The fog disappearing from view

Moody Blues, Twilight

Days of Future Passed

If the Sun Sets in the Darkness . . .

This is the view from my window this morning, which provides you with all the information you need about the moonset early this morning. Unfortunately the weather predictors are not encouraging about our chances for more celestial dazzlement this week. The much anticipated full moon settling over San Francisco will occur this Friday and Saturday, which as you can see below is not apparently going to be prime viewer weather.

TODAY	TOMORROW	THU	FRI	SAT	6-10 DAY
Partly Cloudy	Sunny	Partly Cloudy	Few Showers	Showers	Extended Forecast
High: 73° Low: 51°	High: 69° Low: 50°	High: 62° Low: 51°	High: 64° Low: 51°	High: 65° Low: 52°

The first sunset through the Golden Gate narrows happened yesterday, you will not notice in my shot below any sort of bridge or the golden opening to the Pacific. A near fifty mile long fog bank crept in during the late afternoon yesterday to fill San Francisco Bay from end to end.

I would mention one final time that I really am fond of this type of weather. The rain and fog are fascinating for me, my spirits are lifting by the damp and chilled weather, it's like be wrapped in a cocoon the size of the universe. Sounds are muffled, perceptions shrink and we are forced to go on internal sensors. Perhaps in the next few days we will get a glimpse of the astronomical workings between the clouds, if not, I shall attempt to entertain and minister from the internal microcosm.

Pinprick holes in a colourless sky

Let insipid figures of light pass by

The mighty light of ten thousand suns

Challenges infinity and is soon gone

Night time, to some a brief interlude

To others the fear of solitude

Brave Helios, wake up your steeds

Bring the warmth the countryside needs

Moody Blues The Day Begins

from Days of Future Passed

A Little Lunar Physics

With my celestial gazing blotted out by the grey weather again last night, I turn to a bit of chat about astronomical angles with some solar/lunar synchronicity tossed in for leavening. As I am sure most of you know, but may not often contemplate, the moon has no light of its own. Earth's satellite is a reflective surface, what we see as the illuminated moon is completely solar energy cast back at us.

So when we see or don't see the new moon, it is because the moon is between the earth and the sun. All the light of the sun is on the far side of the moon, which contrary to what Pink Floyd is thought to have said, is not the dark side of the moon at all. At the other apex of earth/sun/moon alignment, a full moon occurs when the earth is between the sun and the moon with the full illumination of the sun on the earth facing moon countenance. The graphic below illustrates these facts of celestial physics. 

When the earth lines up exactly between the sun and the moon, we get a lunar eclipse and I would be remise if I did not remind you that this year on the winter solstice (Dec. 21st) there will be a total lunar eclipse visible in most of North America.

There is no dark side of the moon really. Matter of fact it's all dark.

Pink Floyd Eclipse from Dark Side of the Moon