At the dawn of the twentieth century, all was hopeful and “excellent.” When the Bay Bridge opened in 1936, human ingenuity could solve any problem, bridges replaced ferries, cars replaced horses, aircraft would soon replace trains. Now we’re orphans of the future, living in a world when “modernity” is in the past, and epic symbols of the era and its architecture are quickly becoming relics. Though I have no nostalgia for much of the social/cultural mores of the time period, I do find it fascinating to look upon the structures built “for the future” from the standpoint of that future. Perhaps it makes me wonder, just a bit, what we build for our own future now.
The hills that rise above Berkeley and the east bay are home to some of the most spectacular vistas — when the weather is nice. On this particular day we were just lucky enough to get a patch of blue sky peaking through the bleak grey clouds, which was enough to completely light up the east bay while leaving the gloom looming over the city.
One more shot of this iconic structure, I found this shot compelling because you can see not only the Golden Gate bridge but also its cousin, the Bay Bridge as well as the SF skyline in the background there. If the shot were only a bit wider you’d be able to see Alcatraz and you’d be close to fitting almost all of the Bay Area’s most famous landmarks in one shot.
The Bay Bridge connecting Oakland and San Francisco is actually a pair of bridges, resting for a moment on the island of Yerba Buena. Attached to Yerba Buena is the ironically-named Treasure Island, a man-made island composed entirely of fill. From there, photographing either the East Bay or San Francisco itself works out quite nicely. Today’s shot of the western span of the bridge has a bit of the unlit Yerba Buena outcropping on the left and the hyperintense lights of AT&T Park (home of the SF Giants) under the bridge. On this particularly clear night, I was thrilled to be able to capture it all without a thick slathering of fog.