(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.
(October 20) To the city I go. Noticing the weather vane doesn’t seem to be in the same location, I snap a photo.
(October 24 & November 19) I’ve been spending a lot more time in Port Jefferson than I really care to. The commuting isn’t cheap either. Though it has changed quite a bit from my personal standpoint, in most ways, it’s exactly the same, except a little worse for wear.
Apparently morons, dumb, and the uneducated no longer have to stop here,
which is good since they weren’t stopping before.
Change comes slowly to the LIRR.
Especially west of the station.
The weathervane succumbed to a storm.