“It’s the magic towers of a steel fairyland — the beacon atop the proud Mark, the red, thermometer-like cap of the Drake, the sturdy, four-square crest of Mother Russ, the sudden, blunt end of Coit Tower — that make up the minarets of a metropolis . . .”
“It’s the indescribable conglomeration of beauty and ugliness that makes San Francisco a poem without meter, a symphony without harmony, a painting without reason — a city without an equal.”
Couldn’t resist the panorama from Twin Peaks . . . San Francisco in the aquamarine wash of a creeping fog. This was shot with my Panasonic TZ5 point-and-shoot zoom.