The calm before

A view from the 36th Avenue N/Q station in Astoria, just before the rain began tonight.

Shadows and shapes

A man's shadow, and a shadow of bunting outside the Queensboro Plaza N/Q/7 subway stop in LIC.

On the prowl

Last night, we met some friends at Thirstbaravin (at 629 Classon Avenue in Brooklyn). It was recently reviewed in the New Yorker's "Tables for Two" section; though the review is largely positive, it does depend on observations that some might find offputting, like, "Thanks to its unfortunate location, on a bleak corner between neighborhoods, there is no wait for a table, no tense negotiation with the hostess. ... the place becomes an anti-destination destination." 

Maybe so; for us, this was a selling point, but I can see why it might not be a universal lure. Still, given the rate at which New York evolves, it's hard to say how long the "anti-destination" business will hold. The food was good, rich yet simple (have the macaroni -- but not too much of it, because you should also try all of the desserts!). And as the reviewer notes, there's "something almost charming about the stray cats slipping in and out of the overgrown lot next door." The two pictured above were joined by three or four others that were camera-shy ... or perhaps it was that their attention was elsewhere, on the food: what looked like a serving of beef shank or lamb belly (or maybe just bits and bobs cast off in the creation of those meals?) had been plated in a white ceramic bowl just outside a door at the rear of the restaurant.

A lot to like

It's been so beautifully clear and sunny and warm and lovely these past few days. Even an empty lot (this one is near Queens Plaza) shines.

What's left behind

A view of the lasting impressions left on two buildings in Philadelphia; I can't help but wonder what those ghosted stairways once connected, what went on under that phantom roof. 

Carte blanche

I'm as big a fan of New York's food carts as they come; right now, I'm particularly fond of a nice little cart at 53rd and Park where, for $3 or $4, you can get the most pungently delicious apple-carrot-celery-ginger juice in the five boroughs. Walking home today, near Northern Boulevard, I saw these two unadorned carts on the side of the street: such interesting structures, inside and out, even before cuisine and culture come into play.

Lakeside

This black-and-white was in an old box of family photos in California. I don't know where or when it was taken, or who that is in the foreground, but I love the image nonetheless.

At ease

For the past week, I've been with family in the Sierra Nevada. I've been completely off the grid -- with limited phone and Internet access -- but will return to New York imminently. Until then, staring at some lovely detailed shots I took, like this closeup of a knob on the easel my great-grandfather used and passed on to my grandmother.

In these empty lanes

I find it strange when my wandering takes me to places in the boroughs that are, by and large, unpeopled. Down by the water in Greenpoint, it was pretty quiet; although I ran into some people doing what could have been a photo shoot for Cycle World (black leather, artful posing astride powerful bikes), the streets otherwise seemed to be mine.

Right this way

A colorful wall; yes, I suppose taking this turn would be just fine.