Connect with us

San Francisco, CA

Photos reveal the dramatic transformation of San Francisco’s salt ponds | CNN

Published

on

Photos reveal the dramatic transformation of San Francisco’s salt ponds | CNN


Editor’s Note: Call to Earth is a CNN editorial series committed to reporting on the environmental challenges facing our planet, together with the solutions. Rolex’s Perpetual Planet initiative has partnered with CNN to drive awareness and education around key sustainability issues and to inspire positive action.



CNN
 — 

Barbara Boissevain’s photographs have been compared to the work of American painter Mark Rothko, for their blocks of deep reds, oranges, pinks and greens. But these shades are not mixed on a palette, they are unfiltered snapshots of San Francisco Bay’s salt ponds.

Taken over more than a decade, the images document the restoration of the area, from a center for commercial salt extraction back to its natural state of tidal marsh, mudflats and other wetland habitats. The ongoing South Bay Salt Pond Restoration Project, which launched in 2003 after acquiring land from global food corporation Cargill, aims to restore more than 15,000 acres of salt ponds – an area roughly the size of Manhattan.

Advertisement

The rich, unnatural colors in Boissevain’s early photos are a result of the water’s salinity. She explains that Dunaliella salina, an alga that produces beta-carotene, a red-orange pigment present in carrots and pumpkins, thrives in salty environments. So do rosy-colored halobacteria, and then there are the brine shrimp that eat the algae and amplify the vibrant tones.

During restoration, the man-made levees built to trap water for harvesting salt are gradually removed, allowing the tidal systems to infiltrate once more. With this the colors fade, as shown in the photos. “Those dramatic oranges, reds, purples, slowly evolve into greens, deep blues, and brown,” she tells CNN, adding that “green ribbons of life” seep back into the ponds.

Although perhaps less photogenic, the shift is a positive sign, says Dave Halsing, executive project manager of the South Bay Salt Ponds Restoration Project. “Our goal is to get rid of those bright colors, as they are remnants of the hypersaline waters left from the salt making days,” he says.

By doing so, the hope is that wildlife will come flooding back to the area, from endangered salt marsh harvest mice to migratory shorebirds and waterfowl, or fish such as leopard sharks and steelhead.

Salt and silicon

The Bay Area’s history of salt making dates back to the Ohlone, Native American people who collected salt from naturally occurring tidal pools. After the arrival of European colonizers in the 1800s, the process was industrialized, starting with a number of small-scale operations and then giants such as Cargill taking over. At its peak, salt ponds covered around 36,000 acres throughout the Bay. Today, Cargill still operates 12,000 acres of salt ponds, capable of crystallizing half a million tons of sea salt each year.

Advertisement

Boissevain grew up in the area, and still lives there today with her two daughters. She remembers visiting the salt ponds for the first time during a science class in third grade. It was only years later, in 2010, when she was flying over them in a helicopter on the way to another photo project that she saw how they looked from above.

“It was visually spectacular,” she says, and at that moment she decided to track the bay’s restoration over a long period. She started by going up in the air once a year to photograph the salt ponds. Then Covid-19 hit, and unable to take a flight, she began to experiment with shooting from ground level and even underwater.

Her recent book, “Salt of the Earth: A Visual Odyssey of a Transforming Landscape,” compiles all these different perspectives, allowing the viewer to see the extent of the damage to the landscape, and the beginnings of its transformation.

The restoration of the area is particularly poignant when juxtaposed with the mass development of Silicon Valley that surrounds it. In Boissevain’s photos of Ravenswood salt ponds, on the edge of Menlo Park, the headquarters of Meta (the parent company of Facebook and Instagram) loom large on the horizon. It looks almost dystopian, she says, and reflects the dissonance between man and nature.

An image of Ravenswood Ponds from 2020 shows the Meta headquarters in the background.

However, today wildlife is reclaiming the space. The restored ponds and man-made nesting islands provide shallow water habitat that attracts hundreds of foraging shorebirds and ducks.

The number of birds is astonishing, says Boissevain: “They’re screeching and partying out there. I chose to dedicate the book to shorebirds, because they’re so fabulous and seem really happy to have this habitat back.”

Advertisement

Situated along a migratory route known as the Pacific Flyway, the Bay Area provides a critical stopover for birds as they travel between breeding and wintering grounds, as well as year-round habitat for shorebirds. Halsing notes that Ridgway’s rail, a species classified as a “near-threatened,” has moved in and is nesting in the area. Populations of native estuarine fish have also increased, he says.

Aside from wildlife bouncing back, the conversion of former salt ponds to tidal marsh will bring other benefits, such as flood defense as sea levels rise. “Marshes absorb and disperse water and energy from high tides, storm surges, wind waves,” he says. “They also absorb large amounts of carbon dioxide and help reduce greenhouse gas concentrations in the atmosphere.”

Another upside is for those living in the surrounding area, like Boissevain. “Since I was a small child, the population (of the area) has increased dramatically. It’s so much denser,” she says. “Giving people places to enjoy natural spaces is extremely important for mental and physical health.”

The public can access the area via a network of trails and viewing platforms. By bringing people in contact with nature they are more likely to realize its value. However, Halsing urges visitors to respect wildlife and not trespass into sensitive habitats for endangered species. The restoration project’s website notes that some areas have become popular selfie spots, causing people to invade nesting areas for Western snowy plovers, while others fly drones that disturb wildlife.

Raising awareness of the need to preserve our natural spaces was a key motivation for Boissevain. She recalls her photography professor David Maisel at San Jose State University, who spoke about the “apocalyptic sublime” and the goal of drawing people into a photograph with beauty and then shocking them with the reality of what they’re looking at.

With the striking images of the salt ponds, this is what she is trying to do. “As a photographer, visually we’re competing with a lot of saturation of images. The average viewer is inundated with images on their social media, on the sides of buses, everywhere around them. And so you’re always looking for ways to startle people and bring their attention to something important,” she says.

Advertisement

“This was why this was an opportunity. Because they were so visually striking, it did cause people to notice.”



Source link

San Francisco, CA

Skating Meets Embarcadero History in Stunning ‘Epicenter’ Books

Published

on

Skating Meets Embarcadero History in Stunning ‘Epicenter’ Books


Later, Anthony G. Pappalardo draws a convincing parallel between skating in the 1990s at Embarcadero and music at New York’s CBGB in the late ’70s. “Like CBGB,” Pappalardo points out, “a creative scene grew from skateboarding, leading to new brands, artists, videographers and, of course, pros.”

It’s the small details, though, that truly elevate Epicenter. The photo book includes fun, fold-out spreads. The essay book includes architectural blueprints of Embarcadero Plaza. The set comes with a gigantic poster featuring scores of tiny snapshots of Rosenberg’s skate video footage from the era. There’s even an art print of some of Embarcadero’s long lost ledges, painted by Eric Merrell. The love and reverence Rosenberg holds for Embarcadero is reflected in every aspect of the set.

A giclée print of a painting of the Embarcadero Plaza by Eric Merrell is included in ‘Epicenter.’ (© 2025 Eric Merrell)

Epicenter is also a pertinent reminder of how quickly and often San Francisco transforms itself. The set asks the reader to appreciate their favorite features of the city every day that they still exist. A Thrasher interview quote by Greg S. Carrol from 1999 sums it up:

“There could never be another Embarcadero. Some of us spent hundreds of hours at Embarco. This just goes to show every one of you — don’t take anything for granted, whether it’s something as simple as brushing your teeth or something as fun as skating your favorite spot with your best friends, because someday it might be gone.”

Advertisement

‘Epicenter’ by Jacob Rosenberg is available for preorder now. An accompanying exhibition opens at GCS Agency (201 Jackson St, San Francisco) on Nov. 21, with book signings on Nov. 22 and 23.



Source link

Continue Reading

San Francisco, CA

‘Worst fears’: Historic S.F. earthquake shacks destroyed without permits, neighbors say

Published

on

‘Worst fears’: Historic S.F. earthquake shacks destroyed without permits, neighbors say


The roofs and frames are all that remain of a pair of 1906 earthquake refugee shacks at 369 Valley St. in Noe Valley after the rest of the structures was demolished last week. The shacks were joined to form one cottage.

Scott Strazzante/S.F. Chronicle

The apparently illegal demolition of two of San Francisco’s few remaining earthquake shacks has been stopped by city building inspectors, but not before they had been reduced to the roofs and some framing.

Advertisement

The historic structures, at 369 Valley St. on a steep block of Noe Valley, have been at the root of preservationist and neighborhood fights against a residential developer for more than 10 years.  According to neighbors, a building permit had been issued that required preservation of the two shacks, which were joined to form one cottage, while a single-family home behind the two shacks was approved for demolition and reconstruction. But that permit allowed only for the shacks to be lifted and moved forward on the lot, not the near-total demolition that happened before the project was red-tagged late last week.

Neighborhood preservationists who are organized enough to have a website called savetheshack.net are demanding that the shacks be reassembled using as much of the historic debris that was left on-site in the demolition as possible.

Article continues below this ad

“After a 10-year struggle to preserve the cottages, we now see that our worst fears may be coming true, that the cottages may be destroyed,” said Marc Norton, a retired hotel worker who has lived across the fence from the shacks since 1984. “We always feared that the developer would destroy the cottages in the process of development and act like it was an accident. It looks like that is what happened.”

Norton said the original developer, John Schrader, who saw the project through to the permit stage, recently sold it. The new owner is not adhering to the agreed upon plan to conserve the shacks as part of the development. The violation notice posted by the Department of Building Inspection states that work is being done “that is beyond the scope of the permit.”

Advertisement

San Francisco Chronicle Logo

Make us a Preferred Source on Google to see more of us when you search.

Add Preferred Source

After the stoppage, Norton emailed Kelly Wong, enforcement officer for the planning staff, stating that “the only proper course of action is a thorough reassembly of the historic resource. Without such reassembly there is an environmental impact that cannot be mitigated.” 

A 1906 earthquake shack in San Francisco’s Noe Valley, shown in 2023, was reduced to a roof and frame last week. 
 

A 1906 earthquake shack in San Francisco’s Noe Valley, shown in 2023, was reduced to a roof and frame last week. 

Advertisement

 

Michaela Vatcheva/For the S.F. Chronicle

The roofs and frames are all that remain of a pair of 1906 earthquake refugee shacks at 369 Valley St. in Noe Valley after the rest of the structures was demolished last week. The shacks were joined to form one cottage.

The roofs and frames are all that remain of a pair of 1906 earthquake refugee shacks at 369 Valley St. in Noe Valley after the rest of the structures was demolished last week. The shacks were joined to form one cottage.

Scott Strazzante/S.F. Chronicle

The two shacks in question have been empty since the property sold in 2014. They are set back to the rear of the lot and pinned between taller residential buildings on both sides. The building at the back of the lot was unpermitted construction and was already demolished by the developer, Benjamin Steiner.  From Norton’s property, he can see the weather vane of a rooster, though that is about all that is still standing.

Article continues below this ad

But the rubble from demolition is just as important.

Advertisement

“The debris is essential to any reassembly of the cottages,” Norton said. “We are demanding that the planning staff order the developer to leave everything as is, until a plan can be made to reassemble the cottages, under the supervision of a qualified preservation architect.”

On Friday, a next door neighbor sent photos to planning staff, complaining that the shacks were being destroyed. Agents from the Department of Building Inspection were sent out to stop work. 

The developer, Benjamin Steiner, did not respond to requests for comment Sunday. San Francisco Supervisor Rafael Mandelman, who represents the district, also did not respond to a request for comment.

Jane Cryan, a preservationist known as the Cottage Lady, estimates there are now fewer than 20 earthquake cottages left in the city out of 5,610 built in the aftermath of the 1906 earthquake and fire. She took a census in 1983 and has been fighting for the dwindling supply, even after she was priced out of the city and living in Oshkosh, Wis.

Article continues below this ad

Advertisement

Cryan said the cottage at 369 Valley was made up of two shacks, one 10 by 14 feet and the other 14 by 18, and they were attached, as was the norm. Cryan, who has written two books on the shacks, said they were most likely hauled out of their original quake refugee camps in Precita Park and dragged up onto the 369 Valley by their owner, as was allowed once the camps closed in 1908. The third structure in the compound was built to mimic an earthquake shack but was not historic, and that’s why it was allowed to be demolished previously, she said. 

“A whole lot of people became homeowners because of these shacks being built with the idea that people who paid $2 installments on them could take them to a lot and join two or three of them together and make a cottage out of them,” said Cryan, who lived in a cluster of three shacks in the Sunset District and was able to get them declared a city landmark. Cryan said a survey mounted in 2015 identified only 43 quake cottages in the city, with two sets in Noe Valley.

“Earhquake shacks were the greatest act of charity the world has ever known, and they’ve been mowed down by developers,” she said. “They are very endangered, and it is a terrible thing the city allowed to happen in Noe Valley.”



Source link

Advertisement
Continue Reading

San Francisco, CA

Alice Wong, San Francisco disability justice activist and writer, dies at 51

Published

on

Alice Wong, San Francisco disability justice activist and writer, dies at 51


Alice Wong drinks out of a paper cup at a cafe in San Francisco in 2019. Wong opposed the elimination of single use cups, noting that ceramic mugs were heavy and could be difficult for some people to hold.

Scott Strazzante/S.F. Chronicle

Alice Wong, a visionary disability justice advocate whose writing helped people understand what it was like to live with a disability, died of an infection Friday at a San Francisco hospital. She was 51.

“I did not ever imagine I would live to this age and end up a writer, editor, activist and more,” Wong wrote in a posthumous message on social media. “We need more stories about us and our culture. You all, we all, deserve the everything and more in such a hostile, ableist environment.”

Advertisement

Wong was born with muscular dystrophy. She used a powered wheelchair and a breathing device and said doctors had not expected her to live past 18. 

Article continues below this ad

Her early experiences navigating medical and social barriers shaped her life’s work — turning personal struggle into a public campaign for equity, visibility and change.

Rooted in San Francisco’s vibrant disability justice movement, Wong pushed to reshape how the Bay Area — and the nation — understood equity, spotlighting barriers to access in the city’s universities and restaurants.

San Francisco Chronicle Logo

Advertisement

Make us a Preferred Source on Google to see more of us when you search.

Add Preferred Source

When Bay Area coffee shops moved to ban paper cups, Wong told the Chronicle how the decision would burden those in the disabled community with limited mobility or decreased sensation in their hands. For them, glass and ceramic mugs were often too heavy and slippery.

Alice Wong drinks out of a paper cup at a cafe in San Francisco in November 2019. Wong wrote of the hardships faced by people with disabilities as they navigated everyday life — and campaigned for change.

Alice Wong drinks out of a paper cup at a cafe in San Francisco in November 2019. Wong wrote of the hardships faced by people with disabilities as they navigated everyday life — and campaigned for change.

Scott Strazzante/S.F. Chronicle

Wong also worked to establish accessible resources for disabled students at UCSF, where she earned a master’s degree in medical sociology in 2004 and later worked as a staff researcher for more than a decade. 

Advertisement

Article continues below this ad

She had moved to San Francisco in 1997 to attend the university, which at the time, she said, didn’t have any accessible places for her to live. The university built her a one-room unit in the garage of a professor’s house, Wong said in her memoir, “Year of the Tiger: An Activist’s Life.” She worked with UCSF’s Office of Student Life to change access for disabled students. 

Wong said she struggled at university and pushed off work for her classes. Around 2001, she stopped being a student before returning to finish her degree. Years later, Wong said one of her professors apologized, saying he was sorry the department hadn’t done more to support her. 

“Disabled people have resisted for millennia efforts to eliminate us and erase our culture,” Wong said in 2024 during an alternative communication research summit. “Doctors told my parents I wouldn’t live past 18, so I grew up never imagining what grownup old ass Alice would look like, and this is why visibility, being able to tell our stories and controlling our own narratives, is why I do what I do.”

Disability rights activist Alice Wong, shown at Rutherford Hill Winery in Napa County, has died at age 51. 

Disability rights activist Alice Wong, shown at Rutherford Hill Winery in Napa County, has died at age 51. 

Advertisement

Courtesy of Grace Wong

The founder of the Disability Visibility Project, which collects oral histories of Americans with disabilities in conjunction with StoryCorps, Wong has been at the forefront of chronicling how COVID and its unparalleled disruption of lives and institutions have underscored challenges that disabled people have always had to live with.

Article continues below this ad

Though Wong often jokingly described herself as an “angry disabled Asian girl,” she brought sharp humor and insight to her activism. In “Disability Visibility: First-Person Stories from the Twenty-First Century,” she edited authors exploring inequities within the disabled community and how society values certain bodies over others.

“There is a cyborg hierarchy,” disability activist Jillian Weise wrote. “They like us best with bionic arms and legs. They like us Deaf with hearing aids, though they prefer cochlear implants. It would be an affront to ask the Hearing to learn sign language. Instead they wish for us to lose our language, abandon our culture, and consider ourselves cured.”

Wong wrote about her own experience transforming into what she calls a cyborg in an article for Literary Hub.

Advertisement

“Doctors advised me to get spinal fusion surgery when I was around twelve, but I was too freaked out by the thought of it because it was a serious-ass procedure,” Wong wrote. “By eighth grade my parents told me I was near the final window for this surgery, which could improve my breathing and alleviate the deep fatigue I experienced every day. I relented — with no idea how it would turn me into a cyborg inside out.”

Wong’s achievements brought national recognition. In 2013, then-President Barack Obama selected her for a two-year seat on the National Council on Disability, which advised Congress and the president. In 2024, she received the prestigious MacArthur Foundation genius grant.

Article continues below this ad

It was also the year, after decades of sharing a home with her parents, she moved into her own apartment in San Francisco with her cats, Bert and Ernie, according to the New York Times.

Wong is survived by her father, Henry, and her mother, Bobby, both immigrants from Hong Kong, as well as her sisters, Emily and Grace Wong.

Advertisement



Source link

Continue Reading

Trending