Stumbled across the beginning of this parade en route to the cemetery.
This is Earl, sleeping. He was outside my hotel in San Diego every morning.
In the middle of Washington Square Park I happened to run into a guy playing underneath the entryway (and playing wonderfully, might I add).
I have no idea why I find broken windows and busted doors so appealing.
I was not swept out to sea. There was, however, a bit of an incident a couple blocks from my place. Seems Irene decided to play landscaper. The block next to mine lost power, too. Beyond that, though, Irene’s touch has been relatively gentle.