between thunderstorms.

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We waited out the first of many flash thunderstorms last Friday at a bar in Williamsburg, wolfing down the fries that we ordered to stave off our hunger, then rushed over to the taqueria once the rain subsided.  When we peeked our heads outside after dinner to assess when the next storm would come through, we figured we had enough time for a stroll across the Williamsburg idea.  Capital idea, as J says, for everything came together perfectly: the skies was warm but the air relatively cool, and the light was bouncing off the slightly-slick paths, giving the ground a bit of a glow.

A gazillion photos were taken (oh, and we’d like to apologize to the cyclists for accidentally starting our walk on the bike side of the bridge; my bad!).  By the time we got to Manhattan, the skies were an otherworldly purple, a hue completely uncapturable by the Leica and Ektar 100 combination.  No matter.  We ducked into another bar for some glasses of wine and long conversation, toasting to the evening’s perfection.  When we finished up, the rains had started again, only this time we jumped into a cab and headed for home.
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Below: a mirror image of a shot I took this time last year, only this time on the other side of the bridge.
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