First you notice the city. San Francisco from 30,000 feet appears to be a tiny holdout at the very tip of a cloudy peninsula, but as you begin to descend you’ll find bridges and ocean, mountains to the north and east, and a patchwork quilt of skyscrapers at the northernmost tip.
But from this height it’s still a city, just like all the others.
Whilst the plane continues to slowly dip through the atmosphere though you’ll catch glimpses of landmarks, like a lens slowly bending the light into its focus. Do you see the Coit tower yet? Can you spot the buffalo in the park, the decorated trams? Perhaps you’re flying into the city at night, where you’ll find the dim and orange glowing hum of the Golden Gate bridge or maybe instead its neighbor, the bridge that heads north-east towards Oakland, where at dusk you can find its lights shimmering as if strung together with a set of loosely bound and luminescent pearls in the dark.