Urban poetry

Another view of the new bike racks, still empty.

Hanging with my peeps

Bonus bird blogging for Memorial Day.

There was a robin's nest on one of the paths I usually take to the Azalea Pond in the Ramble. I saw mom and dad robin coming and going a few times, but never saw the babies except for a quick glimpse of orange beaks grabbing for dinner. The nest is empty now, the babies gone -- baby robins are only in the nest a couple of weeks -- but I saw these two fledglings in the same general area on Saturday and maybe they're the babies from the nest. They're teenagers now, learning how to feed themselves, and like typical adolescents, prefer hanging out on a sunny log with their friends to digging for grubs.

Below are some sadly very blurry pictures from another nest I saw Saturday. First the beaks peeking out, then the two siblings, who clearly are getting too big to share a room for much longer.

Sunday bird blogging

There were too many dark drizzly days to get many good pictures during this spring's migration, late and crowded as it was. And my job has been one long series of last minute urgent projects along with the usual crises, so I haven't had as much free time as I would have liked either.

But here's a chipping sparrow from a few weeks ago, looking as though he knows very well that his picture is being taken.

Saturday geometries

Nothing but blue.

A new building going up on 57th Street, photographed on a spring day when the sky was so blue the color muscled its way into every reflection.

Urban poetry

I took this photo as part of a project I'm working on and was surprised by how much I like it.

It's the mix of curves and angles, the way the brick complements the rusty color on the lid, the light on the grate in the back. I didn't expect to find a garbage can so beautiful.

Welcome to the working week

It's been many years since I had a window at work, but there was always one within reasonable distance.  Now I am literally in the basement for the next several months while renovations are going on overhead.

Oddly, I haven't really minded. I spend most of my workday staring at a computer monitor and don't pay much attention to what goes on around me. It's a long hike to the bathrooms, though.

A toast of stars

More experiments in capturing the floral world.

Dom Perignon didn't really invent sparkling wine, and so almost certainly never said,"I am drinking the stars!" But somebody did, even if it was just a clever copywriter, so here's a toast of purple stars with blue bubbly shadows in the background.

Sunday bird blogging

A cheerful looking red-winged blackbird.

A male red-winged blackbird, I should say. In a surprising number of bird species the males and females look very much alike, with maybe a darker head or a brighter breast the only distinguishing feature, and some of them only the experts can tell apart. But apart from exotic tropical species where the males sport three foot tail feathers, I don't know any female birds that look less like the males than the scrawny striped female red wings.

Saturday reflections

I love the shapes and colors of this headlight.

Icon

Home sick today. When I wasn't running to the bathroom I was mostly sleeping, but I spent a little time going through some of the recent pictures that weren't of birds or flowers for another project I've been working on.

My sleep-drugged brain finds the illusion that there's a saint peering out at me through the keyhole oddly comforting rather than creepy.

Urban poetry

Metal seats in an undistinguished public plaza in Manhattan.

I am always a sucker for the patterns in symmetrical seating, like the curves of these backs and armrests framing the small geometry of the metal grid.

Sleepy pigeon

This is me today.

City flowers

Here's a different take. This is the grunge version of pansies; those specks on the petals are dirt from passing cars. And suddenly there's nothing fragile about this flower.

Sunday bird blogging

Another great egret in Central Park a few weeks ago.

I love the heart shape of the bird and its reflection.

Dispatches from Bizarro World

If not for the fact that none of the faces around me look like bad Cubist paintings, I could swear that's where I've been spending most of my time these past several months. It's gray and rainy today, perfect for curling up with a cup of tea and A Clash of Kings once the chores are done. Sadly, "the chores" include reading several hundred pages of software manuals and drafting a support plan, so Westeros will have to wait.

With so few birds appearing recently, I've been taking more pictures of flowers, and though I've always sneered at photographing living things that can't run -- or fly -- away as presenting no challenge, I've found that it's not that easy after all. The natural world resists the easy framing of lenses and viewfinders, and flowers don't come pre-arranged for best effect. But I love the cheerful purple of these pansies anyway.

After all, Is big crime to make anything perfect on Bizarro World!

Saturday geometries

I like the contrast between the gray concrete and the blue glass, though I have my doubts that anyone on the inside thinks the dramatic statement of that windowless wall is worth the tradeoff of no light.

Urban poetry

I hadn't heard anything about this, but apparently we're getting citywide bike rentals like those in Paris. No bikes yet, though -- just the empty racks.

Sunday bird blogging

Not as close as I like to get, but I love the pose -- a red-bellied woodpecker hanging upside down, surrounded by spring flowers.

Right now Central Park should be overflowing with warblers and other migrant birds heading north to breed but...it's not. Apparently the winds have been calm, and blowing in the wrong directions, and there are millions of birds sitting around in Florida waiting to take off on the next leg of their journey. I picture them hopping around kvetching, probably eating too much junk food and complaining about customer service, like most travelers faced with a long delay.

Saturday reflections

Back home in New York, New York, here are windows on Eleventh Avenue.

Cherry baby

I know, I know, more flowers. You get it, it's spring.

But who can resist cherry blossoms?

Urban poetry

One last look under the pier at Worthing.

I don't believe it's actually held together with bits of string, but you could certainly get that impression from this picture.