In my hand I hold a leaf from the tree outside my window. Old hand lined now age and experience veins grown larger. Central vein on the leaf stems my palm. Outside under the tree on the playground the shrieks of children poke sounds of traffic near and far. Rumble is the distance away of the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway. Sun is the fenders bending the sound of the city so many sounds at once un-focusing my eyes. Traffic is snarled. I am thirsty. I shut my window thick and everything goes but the light the light pounds away a second at a time, relentless. Everything is connected is a close place is passing is a light through a tree against night and sky. Make a wish a sign a cross across a great distance. That’s the sun that’s the road I take that takes me south in sun back to her.

Today I took a guided tour of Southpoint Park on Roosevelt Island as part of Open House New York (OHNY). This 14 acre parcel of land is the site of the ruins of the James Renwick, Jr. Smallpox Hospital (1856) and the Strecker Laboratory (1892).

More information on the Renwick Ruins from the RIHS >>

More information on Open House New York >>

Lilac’s significance as a naval vessel is indeed that she is the only surviving example of a vessel that once served a vital role in the navigable waters of every coastline of this country. She is unique in that she is the last unaltered steam propelled and steam hoisting lighthouse tender designed for work on the open sea and connecting bays and sounds. She is also the last such vessel to survive that was operated by the United States Lighthouse Service, the civilian manned agency responsible for maintaining aids to navigation from 1910 to 1939, when this work was assumed by the United States Coast Guard.

For more information visit: http://www.steamerlilac.org/

Located at the southern tip of Manhattan Island, Castle Clinton represents not only the growth of New York City, the the growth of a Nation. First intended to keep out a British invasion in 1812, the Castle has transformed over the years to welcome theater goers, immigrants, sightseers and now millions of visitors to New York Harbor.

For more information: http://www.nps.gov/cacl

It was a humid summer evening in late August. I was strolling around Manhattan in no rush to get to my subway stop, when a vanilla ice-cream craving overtook me. To my delight, I turned a corner and found one of the many infamous Mr. Softee trucks sitting idly. I smiled at the man, and scoured the various sprinkle and dip combinations available to me, when my legs suddenly became immersed in a dense heat. I lost concentration, and looked down to find two wafts of toxic grey vapor, one from the sewer a foot away, and one from Mr. Softee’s tailpipe, morphing into a big noxious cloud at my feet. I decided against the cone, and instead took out my camera to dance with the emanations all around New York that night.