Thursday, August 14, 2008


August in New York: streets empty of locals and fill with tourists. Days are hot and slow; evenings echo with the sound of cicadas--a sound that always, without fail, brings me back to the summer evenings in suburban DC of my childhood.

No pools here. No ripening gardens. No evening BBQs. Just strolling through the city's streets, gaping at the strangers who've come visiting.



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