One path to/from my office (downtown SF) is Post from Polk. An elderly woman is present, outside of her home, indulging in a smoke and occasional small talk.
A meter east of a tree before her door is the primary area where she takes her smoke. The meter enables her to move from beyond the stoop to the center of the walk, to be present in the real time flow of her neighborhood for an extended period of time. At times, her body’s position to the meter echoes dance partners.
She is a familiar stranger. A person I do not know by name, only by sight and place. My view into her world has been limited to this portion of the walk for the duration of a cigarette or for the strides it takes for me to pass.
Always with the same red hat and pink jacket.