My New York
This is an occasional photoblog from A Chicken In Every Granny Cart.
There are roughly three New Yorks. There is first the New York of the man or woman who was born here, who takes the city for granted and accepts its size and its turbulence as natural and inevitable. Second, there is the New York of the commuter–the city that is devoured by locusts each day and spat out each night. Third, there is the New York of the person who was born somewhere else and came to New York in quest of something. Of these three trembling cities the greatest is the last–the city of final destination, the city that is a goal.
~E.B. White Here Is New York