Monday, May 27, 2019


7 a.m.
3 p.m.
8 p.m.

8 a.m.
Bleary and Weary

Traversing Second Street
Alberts Garden

The Anyway Cafe

 Marble Cemetery
2nd Street



Across the street,
Greek Orthodox Cathedral
liturgical music drew me in

I caught the end of the vigil, and Friendly folks invited me to take snaps (only one)

 It's an astounding interior


Further on toward 1st Avenue
A block long display of vintage

7 p.m.
Heading home
"Passage to India"
Channel 13 TV 9 p.m.


Hot today. Read "Upstream" a while, puttered, answered emails, posted at Face book, made lists, got world news update, had a nap and a soak in Epsom salts, thought about people I know who are weathering difficult challenges, then about all those in struggle I don't know.

7 p.m.
8 p.m.
Hudson River

Close up of the Afterglow

A pretty young woman about thirty something years, dressed well in a black glittering cocktail dress and a plush lined beige leather jacket over her shoulders she hugged close around her torso was also watching the sky, sitting near by. She smiled at me and after we complimented the view, we got to talking about this and that. After fifteen minutes or so, I surmise she is running from something. She's here from Sidney Australia and has no work permit so she's exchanging work for lodging at a bargain hotel called 'Chelsea Cabins' where they let her have a room when one is available (I didn't ask where she sleeps when one is not available). She's writing a novel and came here with the conviction that she needs to be in NYC to find a publisher and a sponsor. Apparently she changed her name legally from her birth name (which she didn't want to tell me) some time before leaving Australia and all her ID gives her new name only - "Valsala" (she says it's Sanskrit for love and compassion). I asked if her parents were still alive and her response was "I don't know". I offered her the usual truths about my life as we went along to keep the contact going. Something was very wrong. I began to worry for her. She made no plans, nor had she saved money for the trip. She was not entirely listening but eager to continue. I sensed her looking for solutions, but nothing specific was asked, and I had to move along toward home as my energy waned, so we said goodbye. She asked if she could hug me. Sure. I felt her loneliness, wished her well.  

Memorial Day 


Patty said...

You offered a stranger compassion, attention and a hug. You
were there for her. You inspire me.

grace Forrest~Maestas said...

'the usual truths"....what might they be?, the usual truths...

Mo Crow said...

I am in the reserve queue for Upstream at our local library, looking forward to reading it & always love your photos and stories of the big city!