I loaded the wide and slim with fresh Fuji 200 and shot most a of a roll in New York last weekend:
This is the view from the fire escape of a Murray Hill hotel where I have stayed probably a dozen times in the past several years. I used to be able to look out onto that green-patched deck and see somebody's Boston terrier lounging under a patio table, but I haven't seen the dog for some time. I don't know if the owner's moved or the dog died, or both.
But here the missing puppy is redeemed by a living, if sad-looking, one. I made this picture while crossing the street, lowering the camera to just about the pup's nose level, hence the motion blur. I was just down the street from the Flatiron Building:
Which I try to photograph whenever I'm in the city.
And this is The High Line, park space near the West edge of town built atop what used to be elevated freight train tracks. High Line history notes that the last train crossed these tracks in 1980, and pulled three carloads of frozen turkeys to hungry New Yorkers. The structure in the distance that looks like something out of an Antonioni movie is the Standard Hotel. Soon after the park opened in June 2009, the occasional hotel guest was known to disrobe and or perform some or other act of exhibitionism by the picture windows that overlook the park. The hotel, whose "best available rate" for a Friday night in June is $695, actually encouraged such behavior. Public outrage may have lowered your chances of spying on the lifestyles of the rich and naked. I certainly didn't see anything, and would rather happen upon the ghosts of hundreds of frozen turkeys clucking over Chelsea than see some rich asshole in a cashmere bathrobe.