San Francisco: Up Telegraph Hill

A small art show is going on at an equally small park, Washington Square. We can see a row of easels from our café seats across the street. After finishing our “Bennies from Heaven,” Café Divine’s variation on the classic Eggs Benedict, we walk through the park, stop and get silly over an adorable terrier who I swear, wants to come home with us. Young families stretched out on blankets fill the park on this first beautiful day of the season.
Gene and I walk toward Telegraph Hill, mostly hoping to see the parrots we read about in The Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill. The incline of the streets grow steeper and the Stairmaster jokes are losing their punch. We sit down to rest on a curb. How can anyone live so high on a hill? Cars are parked at a ninety-degree angle and street signs warn to prevent runaway cars.
We trudge slowly to the base of Coit Tower and search the trees for parrots. We see no birds, but we get the classic panoramic view of San Francisco Bay and the island of Alcatraz.