Here’s the setting. The terrible Buffalo Bills just arrived to NY and they’re wishing to duke it out on the NY Jets boy. Both sides get set ready to pulverize the other. The hook? Steve was there to see it all live.
When the snowflakes descend on the ground near Manhattan’s East River, the people flee to their comfortable homes. You’d expect a barren site, yet you’d be surprised the area suggest a different tale.
If you pay Central Park a visit near the northern section of the Conservatory Garden, you’ll find a 3 ladies around a water fountain. They seem of different ages so who or what are they exactly?
Its simple nature. Its lovely figure. Its fragility. Its vibrant colors. And, oh the illusion of reliance upon its gazers. Do you know anything more beautfiul than a flower surrounded by other plants and yet growing alone in an effort to blossom and capture a vanishing moment of brightness?
Surrounded by the ever flowing water of the East River, you wouldn’t expect much from a lonely bridge. One where at any time of the day, not many New Yorkers travel through. Yet, there’s more than you can tantalize your senses should you wish it.