One truth of San Francisco is that it's a city-tumor built upon itself. It was stolen, and stolen, and stolen again, land taken first from the Ramaytush and Muwekma Ohlone tribes by the Catholics of the eponymous mission, and then again and again built to shine and squatted in and left to rot and squatted in again, in wave after wave of gold rushes and life-seeking immigration bringing and building and burning and living in what remains from the last few waves.
It felt very vivid, yesterday, after an impromptu urgent dentist visit, to walk into a city I've walked in for ten years and see it again after it's started to be somewhat inhabited again after the COVID shutdowns.
All images in here have been taken in the Castro and west-of-Mission neighborhoods where I ended up walking on Thursday.
A heavily tattered bisexual pride flag flies from above a shuttered store on Market Street, in the Castro district of San Francisco.
More photos after the break. ⬇
