Hot off the pavement
As the city is still deeply mired in the brutal ugliness that is Winter, I can’t help but look back at my photos of Summer and yearn for the return of the sun and heat. Summer in NYC isn’t for the faint of heart; thick, humid and blindingly bright, it’s brought more than a few people to unfathomable heat-induced rage. I, however, live for it. You can chalk it up to the fact that I was born smack in the middle of Summer or the fact that Island blood courses through my veins, whatever. All I know is that I love my city and I love it more when the only thing worth doing is flopping down in Central Park for a catnap in the barely there breeze.
Being Hispanic, and from the Bronx, my memories of the season have always been heavily colored by my father’s favorite pastime, Stickball. A street game born of poverty and ingenuity, it evolved into something that drew the entire community together. My father and his friends still play despite being official “Old-timers” of the sport. Guess they’re probably missing Summer as much as I am right now.
Broomsticks to Bats - yet another Cinderella story
It's a 'hood thang
Does it get more old school than this?
Cherry, Mango, Coco! Ahh, sounds of summer. I will still run for it.
My dad. ❤
You are here 