It was cold. Grey, white, blank cold. (But not like, say, Denver cold.) I had Judy's telephoto lens to try out and the light was unbelievably bad, so dark and gloomy it was hardly worth taking pictures. And, unless something was a mile away, her lens is more than I could use, so I put my regular lens back on for the rest of the day.
(The one tree in dense fog behind the bridge is well over 4 miles away and I can even make out tourists along the ridge.)
I stopped for hot soup at the Blue Danube on Clement after circling the waterfront, meeting Laura in Crissy Field for a few minutes and then riding through the old tree-lined roads in the Presidio.
The Green Apple bookstore was having a warehouse sale and I bought a book of Musee d'Orsay paintings for very little.
I then rode into Golden Gate Park and locked my bike in front of the de Young Museum so I could wander through the Band Concourse, watching some young men learn their new game (bocci ball?), the balls the only color there.
A man was playing classic Spanish guitar in front of the de Young while I did my picture taking.
I know it's a cliche, but looking at how the inside and outside works in reflections fascinated me as I walked along the outer wall of the new de Young and took these photos. I don't think the boy could see me taking his picture; I think he, too, was looking at the reflections inside. The other photo looks into the gift shop and also shows the crane at work on the new Academy of Sciences across the Concourse behind me.
I'm sitting here processing images from the day, wondering how I can write something for my blog to be able to use them. What the hell am I taking all these images for if I can't use them? (Well, I do enjoy this digital darkroom business.)