San Francisco
Nature’s RE-Emergence
Land’s End
“Have you never seen the ocean before?”
I had - on the East Coast. The Atlantic Ocean is all I had ever known for the first eighteen years of my life. I had known stretches of golden sand that singed my heels as I ran to the Atlantic. I had known dark, murky water that grew into crested waves and crashed with wrath. I had seen that ocean.
What I saw before me, however, was not that ocean. The view from the front window of the car was split in two, a perfectly flat horizon line dividing the blues of the water and the air. I believed that we would be dropped off in the ocean itself (fitting for a location named Land’s End). And this ocean had none of the ferocity of the Atlantic - none of the sting and bite of the ocean I knew.
From a distance, the Pacific lies still at Land’s End. The ocean stays within its own drawn boundary, a flat edge as motionless as the cloudless sky. The water shimmers - something I was convinced only happened in movies - and rolls calmly against the stony shore. The vastness of the ocean is disturbed only by jagged boulders. Milky foam, carelessly left behind by every wave that caresses the rocks, contrasts against the dark stone as it rushes to return to water. This, however, one only sees if they dare to look down. Looking out, one can only be witness to the Land’s End - where the earth falls off into the blue.
The ocean is not the only wonder of Land’s End. Begin to walk on the Coastal Path, and a canopy of green envelops you. Between the bare tree trunks, segments of stumps and brush cover the grassy meadows of the coastal shrubland. The sun filters through the leaves, leaving inviting spots of warmth throughout the path. Though signs compel you to remain on the trails, you are almost overcome by the desire to lie down on the soft earth, to allow your weary body to rest and to be rejuvenated by the life that prospers here. But you keep walking; chirping birds sing along to the rhythm of your feet on the packed soil.
Twisting through the hidden paths of Land’s End, you feel as if there is nothing between you and nature. This belief, however, could not be further from the truth. The bay coastline is not a hidden treasure. After reaching the extensive parking lot - the very same parking lot from where you may gawk at the blues of the ocean and sky as I did - you are only a few feet away from the steps of the Sutro Baths.
This structure, manufactured for humans, by humans, is the remains of the passion project of Adolph Sutro, a self-made millionaire from the 19th century. Covering three acres of the coastland, the Sutro Baths housed an “ocean pool aquarium,” which could accommodate 10,000 people at one time in 1.7 million gallons of water (“Sutro Baths History”). Guests could dive - or trapeze or springboard or slide - into their choice of seven swimming pools, all at varying temperatures. The venue often hosted concerts and talent shows, housed countless restaurants and vendors, and included “natural history exhibits, galleries of sculptures, paintings, tapestries, and artifacts” from around the world. The only attraction remaining from this collection of curiosities? A statue of the Goddess Diana, the Roman patron of wild animals of the hunt.
Now housed in the industrial Visitor Center, Diana effortlessly restrains a stag, who is seen suspended in midair behind her. Under synthetic spotlights and surrounded by souvenirs, Diana does not lose her determined glare. She knows that she is the ruler of her land and the life upon it. And this symbol - that of control over the natural world - encapsulates the spirit of Land’s End.
The Sutro Baths was just the beginning of human control over Land’s End. Today, every trail has been curated, with steps and bridges to transport you to previously inaccessible locations. Signs pointing to every human-made attraction on the coast (the Labyrinth, USS San Francisco Memorial, Cliff House, and Palace of the Legion of Honor) helpfully guide you throughout the forest. At “Overlook” points (differentiated from “Nature Viewing” spots on the map), many take pictures of the Golden Gate Bridge in the distance. Upon reaching the end of my hour long hike up ____ trail, I found not a open cliff and view of the sea, but well-manicured golf course. Humans have taken control of Land’s End, have turned it into a site where you may marvel at both nature and our feats of labor and construction.
Yet humanity’s capacity to create does not match nature’s faculty to destroy. Under every bridge, water carves the floor of streams. Moss climbs up every staircase, regardless of how many sneakers trample it each day. Trees continue to bloom, even when their trunks bear spray paint. Grass shoots up under rubber tires. Vines wrap around corrugated metal pipes. The Sutro Baths, once hailed as a pinnacle of engineering and design, have crumbled - perhaps the waves of the Pacific are more ferocious than I believed them to be. The concrete ruins of the edifice host new microcosms, and the sole remaining pool is now a home to a family of gulls. A plaque in the visitor center reads: “The forces that helped build Lands End are now tearing it down. Wind, rain, and waves relentlessly chew at the bluffs.” As nature continues to reclaim what was once hers, all symbols and proof of human history will slowly be erased from Land’s End. But we will continue to visit, continue to build, continue to gape at the natural and synthetic beauty around us, until our efforts, finally, are eroded away.
Words: Anjika Pai
Photos: Tushar Sondhi