(May 28) I replaced my old phone with the broken camera, with a “new” “old” phone with a not-broken camera.
When I uploaded this photo, I also got some remnants from the past from my SD card.
(March 14 & 16) I am now a 5 mile walk to the train. Woe is me.
The journey starts out in Miller Place.
Off in the distance, you can see the smokestacks from the Port Jefferson Power Station, a few blocks from where I lived for eight years.
The geese are safe from Michael Bloomberg here
It looks a lot more rural here than it really is
No hunting. But really, it’s suburbia, honest!
Someone had a really lousy day.
Lousy enough to make them very angry. But that didn’t change the fact this is a very dangerous road.
And the weathervane has gone down again
Apple’s on fire! … just kidding. Maybe Tony stopped by.
I passed by the House of Viza, but he was not there.
The flowers seem somehow much larger this spring.
(September 5) The purpose of the journey to West Sayville was Bradstock, a festival that originated in nearby Blue Point, and has wandered a bit around Long Island before settling in my old hometown of West Sayville.
And lots and lots of people. This is the first year they sold out.
There was beer. And not shit beer. Louis and Viza would have approved.
Pete bought us some peace sign pins from the hippies.
A number of people were flying kites. I understand this is traditional.
The Great South Bay. I used to spend all my time on the north shore though. Go figure.
Wrapping up August was another trip to …
Pete wanted me to take his picture next to that tree. So here it is.
Pete knows this girl from his trips to the park without me. I don’t remember her name.
This poor kid was swallowed whole by a bubble. Nobody tried to save him, they all just watched him get devoured.
The re-becoming something is well underway
But not without a little street time first. (it’s a video)