Washington was here (he's not here now, though)

Oh, Brooklyn. The love I have for you just keeps getting stronger.

I like walking, and my definition of "walking distance" is probably different than some people's. (When I lived in Chicago, for example, my apartment was walking distance from downtown - it only took me an hour and a half to get there.) With this mindset, I continue to be amazed at how many different things I can walk to here in Brooklyn. My newest point of interest: Greenwood Cemetery.

I know, a cemetery, right? You think maybe I'm stretching it to call it a point of interest? You'll just have to trust me on this one. Or maybe I can explain it to you somehow.

 

 Okay, so it's a cemetery. But it's beautiful. And enormous. If you were "anyone" in the 19th century, you were buried here. Your family members were too, right alongside you. If you had money, you had some sort of elaborate memorial built. A mausoleum perhaps. Or an obelisk. Or a pyramid. Yes, a pyramid. I saw one.

If you couldn't afford a pyramid (or had too much good taste to want one), you could simply have an elaborately-carved memorial pillar, like the one pictured above. All of posterity would know that you had been here, and that you had been someone who mattered while you were alive.

Greenwood is littered with the earthly remains of notable people. Leonard Bernstein, for example. I loved the fact that someone had left him a note. Did his music change that person's life? And the rocks - a Jewish tradition, right? What about the Ricola? He apparently battled emphysema for many years; an in joke? What an intimate setting! You can come so close to him, say or do something so personal. Give him a small gift.

Beyond the famous, Greenwood is full of the graves of regular people. This one (above) really caught my attention. Her name was Freelove! And she lived to be only 18. "But who can help to grieve to lose a gift like this"? I hope she and her parents were reunited.

One of the best parts of Greenwood is this spot, up on Battle Hill. The view is spectacular. Manhattan, Jersey, the Statue of Liberty, New York Harbor, Brooklyn brownstones - everything is spread out before you. The history behind Battle Hill is pretty spectacular as well; George Washington and his troops fought part of the first battle of the Revolutionary War on this very spot. It's funny to sit there then, and look out at the 19th century grave stones, early 20th century houses, shiny modern skyscrapers in the distance. Everything is just layers, isn't it. We add and add, sometimes tear down.

Beach Vacation

That's what it felt like anyway - a beach vacation. In reality it was just a bike ride, a few hours in the sun, and a bike ride back home.

Coney Island. A place I had been itching to go see since we moved here, but had never gotten around to. The appeal, you ask?

It's a great place to bring the bikes. 9 miles from apartment to ocean. Not bad.


Also a great place to sit and enjoy the July sun.


You can dip your toes in the water...


... and also get a feel for the local color (read: cigarette butts in the sand).


Cigarette butts aside, the beach! The Atlantic Ocean! Dark bronze, oiled, speedo'd old men not pictured. But definitely there - trust me.


And a boardwalk to boot. It feels vaguely "late 19th Century Atlantic seaside" to me. As though there should be men in straw hats selling tonics.


Latin dancing on the boardwalk. Merengue? Salsa? I can never tell.


Kitsch. And rides. And great people watching.


And seaside food. Clams!


Carnival games.


The parachute jump. Looking geometric against the clouds.

Black and White (and Middle Gray)

I thought I would throw a few photos up here - photos I've taken for my black-and-white photography class. I've got a lot to learn, of course. That much is obvious after a quick glance at my pictures. All the same, I feel proud of my little shots. No mere point and shoots these; I've fumbled around with film speed, shutter speed and aperture for each.

All the photos below were taken within a five minute walk of my apartment. Many are of the arch at Grand Army Plaza, the others on 7th Avenue.

I Love (Love!)

The Brooklyn Botanic Garden. At first sight. From across the room.

My first visit was on a brilliant, sunny day this past weekend. Everything was in bloom. Everything smelled great. The colors were overpowering. The light shimmered through everything.

Maybe we'll be in the NYC area for awhile. I still haven't decided whether or not this is a good thing. Staying here means no space. No yard. No quiet. When I have my "what do I want my life to be?" moments, these things come up.

What if I had the Botanic Gardens instead of a yard? Would that be so bad?

All Set

We move fast. We do a lot of things quickly, but in terms of boxes, trucks and leases - we move fast. None of that uncertainty crap, none of that drawn-out hemming and hawing. None of that patience. Virtues are for pansies.

Subwayed it to Brooklyn in the pouring rain Saturday morning and signed a lease. June 1 = we are residents of the city of Brooklyn in the state of New York. We're a block and a half from Prospect Park too, which is Brooklyn's Central Park. Even designed by the same man.

The Pluses:

• 3rd floor apartment means no more bars on the windows.
• this new place will also not be a dim, sunless cave.
• Brooklyn! Let the adventures begin...
  
• Park Slope has a lot more going on than downtown Jersey City.

The Minuses

• But I like Jersey City. I'm a little sad to leave it.
• Less closet space in the new place means heated bickering a la "you're never going to learn Arabic. Throw the book away - we don't have space for it!"
• No ceiling fans in the new place means the purchase of an air conditioner. Heat rises.
• Leaving Jersey for Brooklyn means less kitchen space.

One more plus. Our street looks like this. This is not a photo of our actual street - it's a couple blocks over - but it looks about the same. !!

photo by wallyg