FIELD NOTES / MICHAEL BAKER
Building Baker Parks: What the Data Doesn’t Tell You
How visiting San Francisco’s parks turned a public-data prototype into a project about photographs, context, and useful information.
Explore the repository ↗Baker Parks started as a portfolio project about public information. I had read an article criticizing the organization of San Francisco’s parks website, and it seemed like an opportunity to try a different approach. I could work with public data, practice development, and keep accessibility central to the project.
It also gave me a reason to get outside. I wanted to exercise more and explore places I might otherwise overlook. Building a park guide connected those interests with something I could make.
The project has become SF Parks Explorer. Public records provide its foundation, and I’m adding photographs and context from visiting the places myself.
Taking the prototype outside
For my first outing, I planned to visit ten sites. I started on Treasure Island and Yerba Buena Island, then crossed the city toward Lake Merced and Pine Lake Park.
That route gave me plenty to think about. Places that appeared close together on a map could involve very different terrain. A park with relatively few features could have an extraordinary view. An entrance could be easy to miss even when the space beyond it was substantial.
Those observations helped clarify what I wanted the site to provide. A person deciding where to go needs more than a list of facilities. They might want to understand what the approach looks like, how a place connects to its surroundings, or what kind of visit it offers.
Some of that can come through in a photograph. Some needs a caption or a short explanation. Some is only an impression from a particular visit, and I need to describe it that way.
Choosing useful photographs
I initially thought about photography as a way to bring color and a better sense of place to the site. Visiting the parks made the assignment more specific.
A useful image might show an entrance, the scale of a lawn, or the relationship between a path and an overlook. It doesn’t always have to be the most dramatic picture from the visit. It should help someone understand what they’re looking at.
Lake Merced also reminded me how much a photograph can leave out. The water and recreation facilities are part of the experience, but so is the nearby traffic. I want the guide to leave room for those practical details.
I’m currently concentrating on San Francisco. Expanding to other parts of the Bay Area is possible, but there is already plenty to document here.
The work after the walk
Taking the pictures creates another set of tasks. I have to choose which images to use, identify where they belong, put them in a useful order, and write captions and alternative text. Images also need creator credits and licensing information. Alongside my own photographs, I’m using some Creative Commons material available online.
This is where the project connects most directly with my content background. I’ve spent years working with written and visual material, much of it intended to help people understand something or complete a task. A park guide gives me a new subject for that work.
It also gives me something useful to do between coding sessions. I use Codex heavily and have to be deliberate about where I spend my token budget. Improving a description, selecting a photograph, or making its purpose clearer is another way to move the project forward.
Keeping the sources visible
The city’s public data makes this project possible. My site offers a different presentation and additional context, but it remains an independent project. Important details should be checked against the official sources.
I also want to distinguish published information from my own observations. A quiet weekday visit tells me what a park felt like that afternoon. It doesn’t tell me what every visitor will experience.
Keeping those distinctions clear is part of making the guide useful.
A process worth repeating
The first outing gave me a process I wanted to continue: plan a route, visit the places, take photographs, then return to the site and work out what those visits could add.
That makes Baker Parks particularly satisfying to work on. Development gives me reasons to explore, and exploring gives me better material to work with when I return.
I wrote about that first day in more detail in The Start of Something — The Peripheries. This is the other side of that story: figuring out how to turn the experience into something useful for the next person planning a visit.