The thing about New York is, there's just not enough purple in the sky. Yesterday when I got off the train coming home after work, there was a couple standing on the platform taking a photo of the sunset, over the old Williamsburgh Savings Bank building and the bridge in the distance. I agreed with them; it looked good, but as good as it looked it still felt a little hokey, reminiscent of a million bad Christian greeting cards.
Sometimes I just miss that good old southern light, winking at you over the New Orleans rooftops, presenting itself so easily and often that it rarely seemed an occasion for a photograph (See the one exception, above).
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