Even the fog knew we belonged here

From a quiet cove on the Marin side, the lit bridge climbs into the dusk while the whole city glows back at you across the bay.

Our hour there

We got to the pier too early, the way you do with a ring in your pocket. You thought I was fussing about the light. I was fussing about my knee on the path. The sun went down behind the bridge and the sky turned orange, then a blue so deep the towers seemed to keep going up into it. Across the water the city came on a little at a time. I knelt. You laughed first, then cried, then said yes into my collar. Out past the headlands the fog sat low and stayed there, as if it had decided this evening was ours.

If you two come in September or October, Fort Baker is often in sun when the parks to the west are grey. Horseshoe Cove is still water and an old pier, the north tower close above you, the lit roadway running in a long line toward the far tower and the city spilling its lights onto the bay. The best of it is the twenty-odd minutes after sunset, when the sky goes from orange to blue. Stay a while longer and the first stars come out over the towers, darker still near a new moon.

Plan to be on the pier half an hour before sunset, and give yourselves time to stay on after the blue is gone. One honest thing about the reel: it is drawn mirrored. Standing there, the north tower sits close on your right, so flip the reel if you want the two to match.

♡ Up on the Battery Yates bluff afterwards we counted cars crossing the lit roadway, lost count twice, and gave up for good when the first star showed.