Not exactly a ghost town, but it is ghostly

The rains have let up and the winter sun is out, a good time for a walk around San Francisco. Sunshine in midwinter is a gift, and this is a walker’s town. The rains will return soon enough.

Pete Hamill, the New York newspaper guy, used to like aimless walks. “You can just wander around and let the city dictate the script,” he said. Sounded like a good idea.

So I headed out the door and up the hill in the Bernal Heights neighborhood. I took Eugenia Street, one of those roads less traveled. Part of Eugenia is one of those stairway streets, too steep for cars. The rest is mostly level and quiet: You can see Noe Valley from one end and San Francisco Bay from the other. It’s pleasant, nothing special. But it’s San Francisco, so there’s a surprise here and there. At Eugenia and Bocana streets there is an elm that one of the neighbors turned into a holiday wishing tree with little paper tags hung on strings on the bark. “Something magical happens when we all wish at the same place,” a sign says. There were dozens of tags: “I wish for peace on earth,” one says, “I wish for people to slow down,” “I wish for love peace and health for everyone to be happy,” others said. Some wishes were personal. While I was there, a small girl came with her mother. The girl took a tag. “I wish for auntie to come back and live with us,” she wrote.

My own wish the next day was to be on time for my dentist appointment. The Muni bus driver waited for me and when I switched to BART at 24th and Mission, the train was right there, so I was early.

Time for a walk up Powell Street from Market Street. There was a cable car right there, ready to go. No long lines. Hardly any passengers. Midweek, mid-January and three’s a crowd on the cable cars.

Lots of “for lease” signs on stores. The big Uniqlo store just up from Ellis had the windows papered over. “World Class Retail for Lease,” the sign said. It’s been empty for nearly a year.

At Powell and Geary, I ran into Joseph Amster, who operates a walking tour business dressed in the grand uniform of Emperor Norton, San Francisco’s most famous 19th century character. This time he wore the uniform of a Big Bus tour guide, selling tour tickets. How’s the tourist business, I asked. “Terrible,” he said. “There are no tourists.” But there are other things to see, he said, including a big fight between two wild male hawks over a female hawk right on the facade of the St. Francis Hotel. Amster had a cell phone picture to prove it.

I had just missed the wild animals on the edge of Union Square, but was still in time to watch three skaters make lazy circles on the Union Square ice rink. They had the place almost to themselves. It’s the end of the season. The skating rink is scheduled to close Monday.

At Post and Powell, I saw a young woman dressed to the nines, carrying a Saks Fifth Avenue bag, stopping in the middle of the street to take a picture of a cable car.

A block away at Post and Stockton, a beggar held out his hand. “Can you help an old man?” he said. He had more gray in his beard than I did, so I gave him a buck.

On to 450 Sutter, a building jam-packed with doctors for every human condition. Out the dentist’s window is a marvelous view of the blocky towers of downtown San Francisco, the offices mostly empty. It’s not a ghost town, but it’s ghostly, a winter of discontent.

“We had a great December,” a couple of restaurant people told me, “but after that things went off the cliff. Omicron.”

Another day, another walk — this time to North Beach, taking the 30-Stockton bus and strolling a bit through Chinatown. There are still shoppers along Stockton Street, but it’s not what it was two years ago. Things should pick up in the Lunar New Year season, which is not far away. Cross your fingers.

Into North Beach for lunch. There are parklets, restaurants, bars, signs and flags all over Green Street, which now seems to be the liveliest street in the city. Walked into Sotto Mare for the sand dabs, and then next door to Gino & Carlo to hear the talk. You still can get a bit of the San Francisco accent in there: Words all run together. “Howarya? Whatchabin up to?” The people all look familiar, as if you’ve seen them before.

These are the people who stuck with the city when everybody else moved to the suburbs. Stayed here when the pandemic scared a lot of others out of town. The city’s population declined up to 7% in the past year, reports said. Not for them. “If there’s another shelter in place, I’m going to shelter in North Beach,” said Ross DeVincenzi, a retired lawyer. “Everything I need is here.”

I walked over to Columbus Avenue to wait for the bus — a long wait. Plenty of time to watch the people pass by: They were a lot younger than the crowd I just left. More diverse, too. Newer San Franciscans. Resilience, that’s the motto.

Carl Nolte / The Chronicle An ice skater has the rink pretty much to himself as Union Square remains mostly quiet.