Same thought, different day.

I know that I've said this before, but it really never ceases to amaze me that in New York City just by traveling a few blocks you can find yourself in a completely different neighborhood (or in some cases, country).

What strikes me the most about this City is how in some neighborhoods one almost feels completely removed from the postcard image of NYC. When you walk down the street in your neighborhood it often feels like you're walking down the street in your very own small town.

Tonight while waiting for our car service Bighead and I were sitting on the steps outside of our friends' apartment. Between 19th Street and the Prospect Expressway below and the Greenwood Cemetery we were in our own little world. The footbridge passing over the Expressway reminded me of a covered bridge in Vermont or like a portal in some children's fantasy story.

I looked across the street at the abandoned brick and mortar factory and tried to read its original name in the far past faded white paint. The street was quiet and, looking up, I became convinced that on a clear night you could see stars.

From their kitchen you can see Manhattan.

I love New York.