It’s not September anymore. Very much not September.
Too bad because September was, in its way, astonishing at every turn, as I had not been in NY in that month since 2005. The latter part of October, however, has been more recently traversed by me, as recently as 2006, so the season is all too familiar.
But not unappreciated. One can’t help but appreciate Brooklyn’s famous vomit trees, now in full olfactory bloom.
Still, the night-blooming pus vines are nowhere to be found