I love the atmospherics of the photograph below. I took it early in 1990 when I was in a car pool commuting from Brooklyn to New York, where I worked.
I used to leaf through books of New York City photographs taken by the old masters and pined for the times that they depicted. Some of the buildings from those ‘olden days’ still existed when I lived there. My connection to New York and Brooklyn goes even further back than when I lived there as an adult. I used to visit my cousins who lived in an apartment in Bensonhurst and my parents, grandparents, great aunts and uncles used to live in Brooklyn as well. As I got to know Brooklyn by walking some of its streets, I thought of it as my ancestral home.
Sometimes, when it rained or when it was foggy, my connection with the past became stronger. I could understand the settings of old 1940s Film Noir set in NYC, I could visualize Nero Wolfe’s 1930s New York, even though they referred to a city I had never seen myself.
I miss those times especially when I come across pictures that I took, like the one below, as I am removed not only by 3,000 miles in distance, but by decades of time as well.