Mid-June Parks and Coastal Drives from San Francisco
A mid-June weekend built around parks and coastal drives. The morning went to a big grass park — soccer fields mowed and empty, goals waiting at the far end, a bald brown mountain showing above the tree line behind the light poles.
Midday was a winery pressed up against a rock hillside, vineyard rows climbing the slope and string lights hung over the lawn. An old Airstream sat under the trees with a wooden hatch chained open along its side, and parked on the grass nearby was a red Ford pickup wearing a 1929 California plate — whitewalls, red spoke wheels, black fenders, looking readier to run than most of what was in the lot. A steel sculpture spelling WINE in stacked letters stood by the path on the way out.
The drive out took Highway 1 along the water, and the fog everyone warns about for June never turned up. Clear the whole stretch — beach houses stacked on their pilings between the road and the surf, the ocean flat blue past the power lines, tile roofs and old palms crowding the bluff above the highway.