Urban poetry

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

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.

Urban poetry

Two stylized looks at a wonderful fire escape I saw in the neighborhood yesterday.

Shadows

Fire escapes always make spectacular shadows, but I love the way they form a rippling pattern over the curtains in that window.

Life in the time of coronavirus

When this is all over, there will be a flood of memoirs and reflections about the year(s) we all spent in quarantine, and I can already write some of them in my head -- how I learned to appreciate the small things and the dailyness of life, what I saw on my three hundred walks around my neighborhood, why Zoom is not real life.

I won't be writing them. But I have learned to love the views from my windows, and how weather and light and shadow and the seasons change the narrow slice of Manhattan which is all that I see most days.

Life in the time of coronavirus

I've been trying meditation as a salve for anxiety, and have been surprised by how well it works.

It's a habit I tried to develop many times, with little success and no real benefit that I ever noticed, but I've learned that even five minutes of conscious relaxation, focusing only on the in and out of my breath, settles my stomach and calms my nerves.

Just a little. But usually, fortunately, that's enough.

Saturday reflections

 

A shop window in Soho, reflecting some wonderful fire escapes.

I took this picture in 2018, and though I posted it on Instagram for some reason it never made it to the blog.

Urban poetry

Flowers and shadows, from my living room window.

Saturday reflections

A fire escape on Columbus Avenue, reflected in a store window across the street.

Geometries

A fire escape and railings make some interesting grids outside a bar on Eighth Avenue.

It's going to be another very hot and humid day here so I think I'll be cleaning out a closet with the air conditioning on.

Orchard Street

I took a break from sorting and resizing photos to meet my friend Jayne for an early brunch at Cafe Katja on the Lower East Side. The neighborhood is a hipster paradise these days, but all the cool is a veneer over the very old wrought iron and brick bones.

For all the glossy super-high rises and luxury this and that everywhere, much of Manhattan still looks the way it did a century ago. For which I am profoundly grateful.

Urban poetry

Scaffolding on West 57th Street.

Saturday reflections

A stone wall reflects the crazy shadows a sunny morning makes of the fire escapes across the street.

Urban poetry

I've always loved the scallop shape the snow on the fire escape makes as it melts -- it's like the ornate trim on a gingerbread house.

No scallops today, alas, just big fat bricks of still more snow, after yet another day of steady, if not enthusiastic, accumulation.

Fire escapes

There could be (maybe there is) a tour just of the fire escapes of Chicago. In New York, there are rarely external fire escapes on buildings taller than six or eight stories. Only the prospect of imminent death by fire could get me on one of these.

Crosstown

I lost my keys on my way home from San Francisco -- long story, boring story, containing more tears than any adult who has not sustained a permanent injury should shed -- so yesterday I met my friend Jayne for a late brunch so I could collect the extra set she keeps for me.

I was very late. The crosstown traffic was at a crawl. There seemed to be an unusual amount of street repair for a Saturday, but it wasn't until I gave up and started walking that I found out the real issue: a movie crew had shut down Madison Avenue from 23rd Street to 34th, and they wouldn't let anyone cross, even on foot.

I wasn't very nice to the snotty girl with the walkie-talkie who acted as though I ought to be grateful to walk ten blocks out of my way so they could film their car chase, but at least the leisurely cab ride gave me an opportunity to take pictures of people without them knowing about it and getting pissed off.

Urban poetry

Angles and curlicues in overlapping fire escapes on Ninth Avenue in Manhattan.

The circle on the side of the balcony is unusual; I haven't seen another fire escape like that before.