This evening I took the last boat out (and the last ferry back, thank goodness) for the night time tour of Alcatraz -- the island is a mile and a half out into San Francisco Bay. Although the prison was closed over forty years ago, the place is downright creepy. It is damp and eerily quiet except for the gulls calling; the buildings are derelict in parts, much of the concrete is crumbling and covered with moss and algae, the road is now so rough it is called a trail.
There were gardens at Alcatraz back in the day, but it was dark by the time we were divided up into manageable sized groups and led to the top of the hill so I couldn't see the remnants of those. Instead I caught glimpses of what I could along the way.
Before the sun went completely down in the west, while we climbed the steep road to the top of the island, I noticed many flowers blooming: shrub sized fuschia, calla lilies, geraniums, and iris. Some newly planted snapdragons and dianthus. Some self-planted Centranthus ruber (pink Jupiter's beard) clinging to the steeply cut hillside -- it was growing amidst the cracks in the stone and concrete. The nickname for Alcatraz is "The Rock" after all. Lots of ferns growing out of the rocks, too, along with copious quantities of smothering dark green ivy. And near the top, a glorious patch of spring bulbs: thick bunches of snowdrops and fragrant narcissus gleaming bright white in the last rays of sun. Such a welcome sight in such a forlorn, hopeless and horrible place.
If you go, be sure to take the audio tour and don't miss the cell door sounds & noises demonstration -- never again will you hear the term "slammer" in quite the same way. Here's the official National Park Service web site for Alcatraz.
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