The High Line: NYC

Unbid rainstorms make animals of us all, seeking shelter, we watch, waiting for the break.

A bright streak splits the sky, a boom, and a squeal, followed by laughs.

The crowd constricts and gathers close.

The electric air invades our lungs, a collective breath withheld.

Nervous chatter and smiling faces, drinking beer, our liquid courage.

The howling wind and pounding rain gives way and quiets.

We the waiting dart for cabs and form a line beneath the bridge — rainy days are cabbie’s friends — and wait again.

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10 thoughts on “The High Line: NYC

  1. Natrodisiac says:

    I liked your short story! Stay dry!

  2. Cool story and accompanying shots, like it!

  3. loooved the photos! Sigh, no follow button like, Blogger ūüė¶

  4. Kelsey says:

    Beautiful photos, awesome blog. I’m diggin your travels. I’ve got some cool stuff too, check it out!


  5. thriftydrifter says:

    New York is amazing in the rain. You really captured that in just a fragment of image and prose. Nicely done.

  6. Love the High Line. Hate trying to get cabs in the rain.

  7. […] is. Now my journey begins once more in America as I make my way home. My first stop is one of my¬†favorite cities¬†in the world — New York […]

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