Weekday Evening in Golden Gate Park

Very seldom do we get a chance to spend time in Golden Gate Park on a weekday evening, but such was the case this past week when Dorothy attended a close friend's father's wake.

The first stop that we made was at Spreckles Lake as we entered the park on 25th Avenue from the Richmond District side. The evening was cool enough to warrant jackets. Ryan insisted on being pushed in his stroller. There was a flock of over 100 pigeons fussing over their evening meal. The kids could not resist the temptation to chase the pigeons who were more worried about not getting their share of the meal.

We came upon two groups of older men huddled for entertainment. "Look dominoes! They're playing chicken foot!"

It was dominoes, but not Chicken Foot, the variation of dominoes that our kids learned from the Portland Emotos. No, these men were playing for money. We didn't stay for too long. "Dad, let's go, I don't like the smoke."

So we continued our short walk around the lake, passing the same older couples that we had seen earlier who were walking counter-clockwise to our clockwise round trip. There was an occasional bicyclist, but mostly it was older couples, bundled, walking or resting on benches, speaking in Cantonese. Some would point to the kids and smile or wave, but I don't think the kids noticed.

The next stop was the buffalo paddock. We found the area with construction underway to install new fencing so the buffalo were all herded into a small area near the roadway. Ethan and Naomi were satisfied with seeing the large animals from the minivan, but Ryan wanted to get out so the two of us went out for a closer look. We counted seven buffaloes, a much lower number than what I expected. My recollection was a larger herd roaming the open field. There were some tourists who were also at the fence. They were speaking in German so I didn't know what they were saying, but I couldn't help wonder if they knew that what they were viewing was not the usual view of the buffalo.

We continued our journey down to Ocean Beach. I knew that Dorothy would be calling us soon so we didn't get out, but the kids were happy just to see the ocean and the waves rolling onto the beach.

We drove toward Geary Boulevard. The phone rang. It was Dorothy. The wake was over and she was ready to leave. Ryan reminded me that he wanted to see the shiny house. What he was referring to was the gold-domed Russian Orthodox church on Geary Boulevard. "Look, there it is!" exclaimed Ryan as we drove past the church.

Dorothy was in front of the mortuary chatting with old friends. We drove off trying to figure out where to eat dinner.