On the River It just occurred to me that I spent an hour on the river and didn't shoot any boats.

Hmmmm.

Chicken stand just before the rain hit.

The rain started with big ploppy drops as warning shots then the skies opened.

With everyone in black or beige this town ought to shot in sepia. A red stripe stands out.

The A Passage
At 168th Street to get from the A train to the 1/9 you have to go through a zig-zag passage to the elevators. The elevators take you down another 60 feet under the city. These people look like they are heading towards heaven....

Riding Home Friends This bunch had just come from their high school farewell. The starting point of graduation. The two standing are wearing tee-shirts with greetings written all over them from their friends. So much laughter.

Every day in New York is a kind of hiking trip. We pack, we pick, we schlep whatever will be needed for the next twelve hours before we leave the apartment. Water? Check. Papers? Check. Work taken home? Check. Clothes to change into if going to dinner? Check.Extra batteries? Check.

No Shake Shop this week.

Moving on. Frank, Kicky et al missed nothing by not coming down to the Shack last evening. I stepped out of the store at about 5:45pm and looked West and knew I'd seen that kind of cloud before, the greeny-black roiling kind, heading towards your unprotected position in a hurry. The last time I saw a sky like that there was about twenty five miles of Oklahoma wheatfields between me, my bicycle and the towers of lightning. This time they were just about overhead. The sky opened. No. The sky was rent from stem to stern, from end to end, from pillar to post, from A to Z, from ridiculous to sublime, from a point essentially equal to the position of my right foot to a point roughly akin to that of infinity. The wind sought out any passersby who foolishly thought they could dodge the deluge by darting into the shelter of doorways. I don't believe I've ever had the experience of West AND East winds at the same time, but there they were, butting up against each other while the drenching, pounding, pouring rain soaked the large and the small, the umbrella-ed and the exposed, those holding eight-hundred dollar briefcases over the heads and those with a plastic shopping bag tied on like a babushka. A group of us, soaked to the skin with a slight hint of wet dog aroma, clambered onto the 23 bus and watched as a gray curtain of water held every vehicle on the street in place and stopped the world. The bus crawled foot by foot towards Eighth Ave where I was going to make my break for the E train and just as we passed Seventh there was a gasp from the woman standing next to me. "Look," she said to her girlfriend,"We should have waited." I looked West where she was pointing. There was the sun. Going about her business, getting ready to do her best Frying Pan sunset dive, tying a few of the little clouds around her into ribbons for her hair. Rain? Where? When? I sighed a New York commuter sigh and squished my way down the steps of the subway and headed uptown. Joe(okay, next week)Nation

Knapsacked

A bag and a bag and a bag. And there is probably a bag inside the big bag.

Three asleep
I've been looking at bags lately. Everyone in New York carries some sort of bag or wears a knapsack or wraps a strap bag across their body.