Prospect Park on a sunny day

Brooklyn, 5/21/08

At the entrance, two farmers chat beside their large truck, in the shade of an umbrella, a stone's throw from a massive traffic circle. Their folding tables boast potatoes, bell peppers red and green, apples, tomatoes.

A grandmother reads a letter aloud, in Russian, to a baby, hidden in a stroller.

Three Latina nannies call out with accents to white children, spinning dizzy on the grass.

Six Hassidic men at a picnic bench, beneath the tallest tree, at the edge of a large field, discussing.

A teenage girl straddles her boyfriend on a bench, like a horse, whispering.

Beneath shadowy trees, a small blond boy quietly marvels at a waterfall.

The sound of streams running.
Tennis balls bonked by rackets.
Two birds take turns: a bold and melancholic melody, then a shrill whistle.
Sirens.
A Haitian woman sings woefully, eyes closed, one palm up to the cloudless sky.

The Hassids saunter by like it's Shabbat: an elder rabbi among five young men, each with sideburn curls, beards, black suits. Some continue the discussion. One straggles behind, thumbs jumping from key to key on a mobile phone.

Three white guys scratch in their notebooks.



a few other photos from New York: http://www.flickr.com/photos/49944331@N00/sets/72157605550095802/