Currents from the Grand Army Plaza farmer's market. Turned into a crisp. Eaten with vanilla icecream.
Rocket's red glare. In the drizzle atop OHS's roof.
This beetle was at Dead Horse Bay. Take a closer look.
"I celebrate myself, and sing myself,/And what I assume you shall assume,/For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.//I loafe and invite my soul,/I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass."