Crossing The Hudson

After three quiet evenings in the country, we crossed the George Washington Bridge on Monday afternoon.  Usually we’re on it in the dark of night.  By day, it’s a river of industry flowing into the life of NYC.IMG_6091

This new building is right at the entrance, covered in a skin of clouds.


The view out the sunroof, when I noticed, among other amusements, the meal related trucks.


A transporter’s ad for the appetizers it carries,


The main course brought to us by Bumble Bee,


Baci chocolates for dessert,


Stacked chairs on a new car carrier, sans cars,


One of a few horse trailers going to New York.  Go figure.


By the time we hit the West Side Highway, we were no longer quiet country folks but had joined the excitement and the speed, while counting our blessings for the green peace of Sullivan County and the bustling energy of our beloved city.  It may seem insane to those that live elsewhere, but this place inspires me to no end.


I sometimes wonder if I will ever tire of it, but so far,                                                                                              it feeds my heart and soul, coming and going.

Scenes From a Car Window


Coming back from Sullivan County, rushing by a river,


Skimming the earth like wind,


In a moment of parked repose, the trees reach to the Sistine Chapel.


As night falls, bridging our way from burbs to urban, dread narrowing my thoughts.


We fly down the west side through lurid beauty: cramped trees growing in concrete.  I prepare to meet what it means to be the daughter of Sol.

Stef & Dad Fl 07

                  Faces alike, countered spirits, from the other side, his reign remains.