Walking to Dumbo

I've been looking at the beautiful tapestry for maybe five minutes, maybe an hour, and I could watch it weave itself (or am I weaving it?) all day, but Andy says it's time to go, so it's time to go. So we go.

The street outside is a little uncomfortable, but I'm in a very good mood, and the sun is shining. It's a little brisk(or is that just me?) outside, but not uncomfortable. The people here make me a little nervous. Some of them seem very strange ("hard", Andy calls it). It's okay though, coz we just keep walking. As long as we're moving, everything is okay.

We cross the overpass that stretches across the BQE and go down into Red Hook. I feel like I can fly, but decide against an attempt. Everything is nice here, even the weird dogs trying to get out the windows of the houses. We walk down a sidewalk towards the sun, and a woman having a yard sale spreads a beautiful tablecloth out. The rays that pass through it look like heaven. I sigh a little moan. I want that tablecloth. Andy gives me a look and we keep walking.

We walk through Red Hook down into Brooklyn Heights. The houses here are gorgeous, and the cherry trees are snowing pink on the cobble streets and expensive cars. Down down down we go to the promenade, where all the energy of millions of lives is channelled out through the expressway below us and Manhattan looms across the river. It's crazy here.

And then, through a garden, a parking lot, and a jetty, and we're in Dumbo. We are Down Under the Manhattan Bridge Overpass. It's really weird here. There's a nasty old lady feeding filthy cats and singing. I don't see how all these artists can live here. Ugh.

And we keep walking...