September has been something to endure. And that’s being cheerful about it.
When the gate’s open, I step in for a few shots.
I keep meaning to just ask someone if I can come in.
I’d like to get shots of all of it before I move.
Crazy Sign Person went into re-runs.
I remember when summer meant marigolds
Speaking of memory, the night depository is a relic now, right?
Returning from the bank in the early morning, I saw an apple on the sidewalk.
Then I went out to Port Jefferson. I always walk to the LIRR now as well. My legs are cheaper and still more reliable than the subway.
Down the drain and on the street.
Hot Pink. Not the ideal way to keep Victoria’s Secret.
(August 14) A couple of weeks ago, I’d figured to save time by walking to my customer one stop away on the local 6 train from the express 6 I’d gotten off of at Hunt’s Point Ave. It turned out to be a terrible mistake from that perspective, but I decided to go back with my camera, which I strangely hadn’t brought with me on the previous occasion.
You can see the footbridge, which turned out to be the focus of the traveling I needed to do.
No, the obelisk isn’t peeing, it’s a fountain.
Walking back toward the footbridge, I passed over the Bronx River on another bridge.
There’s several views here I don’t get from where I usually cross this river.
You can see the sky reflecting off the water.
Down in the water, there were thousands of fish.
That’s not an oil slick, that’s a lot of fish down there.
Still in use from the looks of it.
This one is a serious view-buster
Wherever there’s train tracks, there will be tagging, which pre-dates the Intertubes.
Viza informs me these are Amtrak’s tracks.