After having a cup of coffee with my visiting parents at Taszo, we walked down 157th Street (I think) toward the river. I felt jealous of everyone who lived on a street with such uniformly sturdy, elegant building facades.
I wondered how long it would take to carry all these bricks somewhere, one by one.
A plane whispered past us in the azure sky.
So many buildings; so many bricks.
The sweeping curves of Riverside Drive.
Closer to the river, we admired the George Washington Bridge.
The lampposts are very much in keeping with the balustrade.
Walking back on Riverside Drive, we followed the small miracle of straight bricks as they made a gentle curve.
Even the hot June sun couldn’t deter us.
A rose bush bloomed languidly at the base of a tree.
The Grinnell hovered over us like a god, perfect and ambivalent to our fate.
