Leaving New York

Looking down Seventh Avenue Friday night, towards Madison Square Garden where apparently some kind of wedding was going on.

The street closures had made traffic a nightmare all day—and it was over 100 degrees—so I cancelled my appointment at the DMV and spent the afternoon packing with the air conditioners blasting. I took this picture through the window of the Uber to JFK; the thunderstorm was brief but fierce.

Saturday reflections

Today is my birthday and I wanted to post a really cool reflection shot to celebrate, but this is the best I can find: buildings in lower Manhattan.

Urban poetry

A chain-link barrier hanging off one of the piers in the Hudson. I love the colors.

Saturday reflections

Layers of reflections through the windows of the Fifth Avenue bus, a few months ago when it was still dark in the early evening.

The in-betweenish spring weather is lingering longer than usual this year: a day in the 80's is followed by one in the 50's. I met some students in Central Park today, and when I walked outside it was much colder than I had expected. As there was no way in hell I was walking back up the four flights of stairs to get a jacket, I made a quick stop on the way to buy a hoodie at the gift shop at the zoo. And I congratulated myself on this very clever solution, right up until the moment the cashier rang it up: $60!

Saturday reflections

The reflections are secondary maybe, but I liked this truck in camouflage colors I saw parked in the East Village last night.

More urban poetry

I really like this one—early evening, and the sunset reflected in snowmelt on Park Avenue.

Urban poetry

It doesn't get much more urban than this: Times Square on a winter's evening this past February.

I seldom carry a real camera around any more, and can't remember why I happened to have it with me that day. Maybe I thought I'd take something I could use in my class this semester—the theme was photography—but it took me three months to get around to looking at the pictures and classes ended last Saturday.

Geometries

A plaza between West 41st and West 42nd Streets, near Bryant Park.

Saturday reflections

A ceiling at La Guardia airport earlier this week.

When I was planning this trip, I expected that airfares would be higher than last year, but I was surprised by how much. So I dithered and delayed, and—surprise, surprise!—the flights didn't get any cheaper. And I've used up most of my miles and points, so I ended up booking Delta flights out of La Guardia because it was the cheapest option. Both of the flights had connections, which makes for some long travel days, but I'm still leery of Newark, though I haven't heard of any major delays there recently, and JFK is just so far away, so I was happy to have the option of La Guardia.

Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Then the TSA delays started, and the lines at La Guardia were of course the worst of the three New York airports—3-4 hours the day before I left, even with TSA Pre. Standing in line is unpleasant under the best circumstances, and is really, really unpleasant with a bad knee, so I was, um, stressed.

But I dutifully arrived at the airport four hours before my flight, and got through bag check and security in less than 30 minutes. I indulged in breakfast at a nice restaurant with comfortable seating, where the scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, juice and coffee cost me $45 dollars and was worth every penny.

Urban poetry

A fire escape on the Lower East Side a few years ago.

Urban poetry

The view from my living room a few weeks ago.

On Tuesday it was 80 degrees. Yesterday it snowed. I miss having actual seasons.

Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out

The Tenth Avenue bus yesterday. That snow bank was not as daunting as it appears in this photo; there was a path behind it for getting on and off the bus.

Snow

What I woke up to yesterday morning after a long night of blizzarding. It snowed until mid-afternoon, but fortunately we don't have the freezing temperatures we had after the last storm and it's already melting a little.

Saturday reflections

(Posted late because last night I felt like lying flat on my bed and watching television was too exhausting.)

The Church of the Holy Trinity on East 88th Street—not to be confused with Holy Trinity Church a few blocks south—as a winter afternoon slides into twilight.

What this photo lacks is the soundtrack of drip drip drip from snow melting off the eaves, which was an unpleasant reminder of what was going on at that moment in my apartment a few miles away (now apparently resolved, though I still have some painting/repair in my future.) Another blizzard is on the way, with up to two feet of snow expected. Can I just say—Yuck!

Urban poetry

(I thought I must have posted this one, but if I did I can't find it.)

A row of brownstones on the Upper East Side last August. It's very February today, gray and rainy, so this picture looks especially attractive to me. And it's no longer raining inside my apartment, so I can actually focus on other things.

Snowmelt

I'm still here, though dealing with a leaking ceiling in my bedroom from a malfunctioning radiator in the apartment upstairs for most of the past two weeks has stretched my patience to the breaking point. I'm calling the constant plop-plop-clank into the bowls and trashcans lined up next to my bed the Hell's Kitchen water torture.

It's also drip drip drip outside as the snow is finally melting, uncovering all the treasures that were embedded in the snowcrete.

Snowcrete

That's the half-joking name for the masses of snow that have lingered for the two and half weeks since the big storm. It's been so cold—zero degrees Fahrenheit Saturday night—that the little bit of snow that that has managed to melt has quickly been refrozen into something you'd need a jackhammer to remove. If, say, you wanted to drive one of these cars on East 89th Street anytime before April.

I took the picture of the car on the right last night, and realized that I'd already taken a picture of it, a week ago. You'd have to look very closely at the two pictures to notice any difference in the amount of snow.

Urban poetry

This is something you see a lot in New York's older neighborhoods—below street level commercial spaces. This one on West 44th Street is vacant at the moment, except for the snow.

Welcome to the working week

Today was the first time since the big snowstorm that I woke up to temperatures in double digits (higher than -12 degrees for the Celciosi). It was a toasty 11 degrees, and it's supposed to get up just to the freezing mark later this afternoon.

It's been so cold that none of the snow from last week has melted; although the sidewalks are mostly clear and there are passages cut through the snow at intersections, there are piles of dirty snow lining every street. It's been so many years since this has been normal that I think we're all a little shellshocked.

Saturday reflections

Windows on the Upper East Side, down the street from those snowy lions.