Wish You Were Here

Wish you were here

seeing what I'm seeing,

experiencing this moment with me.

Wish you were here

seeing me the way I want to be seen.

Look at me, and tell me you like what you see.

I believe this is what motivates the 1.8 billion images posted daily on social media sites.

Heatwave

Waited for the sun to sink low in the sky

before going on an evening hike.

The path tethers me to the here and now.

It assures me everything will fall into place.

Home

The days I spend on the east coast are always vibrant
in the way fleeting things tend to be.

My NYC excursions invigorate and inspire me.

I spend hours walking, exploring, dining, photographing,

and visiting some of those dearest to me.

It's the first city I glimpsed from the car window

as my father cruised the timed lights on Park Avenue.

It's the first city I chose to live in as an adult.

It's familiar,

and carries layers of memories,

and yet it continues to surprise and reinvent itself.

My love for NY does not extinguish the thrill I feel deep inside

when I see the Santa Monica Mountains and glittering LA skyline

from the plane window.

My heart is nestled in those hills.

It is home.

New York in B&W

Street Art

Saturday Brooklyn Style

It's a few days into autumn on the east coast,

the temperature is slightly cooler,

the days a tad shorter, the sun less menacing.

Summer is receding in the review mirror.

Often when I travel my Saturdays resemble my routine at home.

I traded my mountain trail for a "hike" across the Williamsburg Bridge

to The Flea in Fort Greene.

Long stretches along trash strewn avenues were less than interesting,

but there were also pockets of superlative people watching,
 and rows of renovated brownstones.

I stumbled upon a farmers market, and sampled sweet green heirloom tomatoes.

I ate lunch in DUMBO, near the iconic waterfront,

before returning to the LES via the Manhattan Bridge.

A very satisfying 8 mile urban loop.

pizza

Amazing backyard brick oven pizza