What you don’t see here are the earnest midtown lunchers seeking out a place to sit quietly and feel an hour’s comfort without expectation. A park on 23rd Street defines itself by its absences, without grass we are able to see the ephemeral network of shadows that leave no mark of the day’s delimmas or joys.
The art of photographic composition is in the framing of a segment of a larger view. The frames that make one curious about what’s going on beyond… tickle. In this fine sidewalk/tree shot it is the horizon that fancies my synapses.