When the tops of the towers of the Golden Gate Bridge are a brilliant bright orange, it signals another day is about to begin. The sun slowly rises over the City and that bright orange color slowly drips down to the rest of the bridge. If you ever visit San Francisco the best place to see a sun rise is just at the base of the bridge at Fort Point.
Many mornings the bridge is fogged in, a pea soup so thick you can’t tell you’re on a bridge. From below, at the fort, you can only tell where the bridge is by the fog horn.
On this particular morning it was crisp and clear. The temperature is in the low 40s and the sky is bright blue while the orange begins to drip down, coating the towers. The water is eerily calm, only the beginning of the flood tide, but the surface is almost glass. The only interruptions are the occasional dolphin, random bird or rescue jet ski.
Both skis are making their way towards the flare that was dropped in the water at the location the jumper was last seen. The flare sparkles a bright red and the smoke it gives off is almost motionless as the source slowly drifts with the tide.
The coast guard ship makes the jet skis seem like ants at our range, and the rescue and fire boats are now approaching to aid in the search.
As the remaining units arrive at our location under the bridge the sun crests over the City and bathes us in warmth, the whole bridge now bright International Orange.
We stood there for nearly an hour. Taking deep breaths of the crisp clean air, watching the City awake and listening to the traffic pick up on the bridge above.
It was a beautiful morning.