When you transition across two hemispheres (south to north, east to west) by racing halfway across the globe in a matter of hours, you leave a part of yourself behind. While you wait for the piece that is missing and trust, that despite the sense of emptiness, it - and your luggage - will catch up, you go out on autopilot into the place that is part of you, to remember who and where you are.
Brooklyn Bridge Park on a cold Saturday was equal parts imposing and human. The usual freezing brides were posing against the buttresses and Manhattan skyline.
The day after the Wolf Moon the low tide water was slack, the East River calm.
The Manhattan Bridge was as raucous as ever, every time a subway thundered and beat over it.
And the view across New York Harbor as uplifting.
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Welcome home (well, at least to your Northern hemi home). So glad you got a nice long visit with your mother. Pictures, as usual, are wonderful. Happy New Year!
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