The narrow streets perfectly framed the New York Gehry. It's so pretty looking east that I almost can forgive how it obscures the Woolworth Building when you're crossing the Brooklyn Bridge into Manhattan.
I first glimpsed the Oculus to my right walking down to Battery Park. It's really distinctive.
I can't resist a cemetery, particularly when it occupies some of the priciest real estate in the world like it does at Trinity Church. The first person to buried was a five-year-old child in 1681.
The Astor Cross is more intricately carved than most of the other tombstones. Sculptures on four sides depict Christ's ancestry, according to St. Luke, beginning with Adam & Eve.
His crucifixion tops the cross, like a cherry on a sundae.
Newer buildings dwarf the spires of the church.
Here lies the inspiration for the hit Broadway musical.
As well as Robert Fulton, the guy who invented the steamboat.
John Watts fought on the wrong side of the Revolutionary War, but his son did well enough in the former British colony to erect this bewigged monument to his father's memory. The buildings downtown may have changed since then, but the order of things certainly hasn't.
Except now that it's the Chinese who caress the horns and tickle the balls of the bull that symbolizes American capitalism, just a few blocks away from Zucotti Park, where Occupy Wall Street originated.
I began working around the corner just a decade ago. It didn't look as pretty then. Manhattan changes in the blink of an eye.
One Broadway, now that's an impressive address!
The Sea Glass Carousel and crowds of summer tourists have brightened Battery Park considerably.
This statue, honoring immigrants, also provides seating for tourists enthralled by street gymnasts.
The new World Trade Center drew me like a beacon toward the Oculus.
An elevated pedestrian plaza a couple of blocks south offers great views of the 9/11 Memorial and Museum.
The surfaces of some of the buildings are reflective.
This statue honors members of the American Special Forces who were the first soldiers to be deployed to Afghanistan after 9/11. We all know how that turned out through no fault of their own.
These trees were planted just five years ago. Look at them now.
I'd never seen the 9/11 Memorial on a sunny day. It's hard to comprehend how something so beautiful can commemorate something so sad, especially in the midst of our selfie culture.
A single look at the name of a complete stranger still brings me to tears, especially since the attack and American response precipitated so many other senseless deaths around the globe.
But the Oculus instilled a sense of awe. I've long admired Santiago Calatrava's skeletal architecture. His design for the new PATH station at the World Trade Center really does seem like one of the wonders of the modern world despite the degradation of the building's skin, already visible.
On a sunny afternoon, the interior has the feel of a light-filled temple.
It certainly sets off "Old Glory."
While tourists gape, commuters rush through without a second look. Soon enough there will be shoppers, too. Isn't that what President Bush said Americans should do after 9/11? How benign that exhortation seems now the Republicans have nominated a truly idiotic demagogue for President.
You can walk underground to Brookfield Place. It may sound less grandiose than the World Financial Center, but don't let anybody kid you.
I used to ride my bike to work from the Upper West Side to the tip of Lower Manhattan through Hudson River Park. Unfortunately another ghost bike memorial has been added along the route.
But the park is livelier than ever, with even more people taking advantage of all the amenities it has to offer.
Pooches, too!
Even New York City's sanitation department has had a role in the revitalization of Lower Manhattan. Would you believe here's the shed where they store the salt which makes our streets passable in the winter?
The simplicity of New York City's first AIDS memorial continues to move me. "I can sail without wind, I can row without oars, but I cannot part from my friend without tears" is a lyric from an old Scandinavian folk song. Andy, one of the guys behind the memorial, was in the first house I ever shared in the Pines.
Only the High Line could tear me away from Hudson River Park. There's always something new to see, or to see in a new way.
A current exhibit strives to keep cool visitors even cooler with visions of ice cream and fans.
A life-like man in his underwear attracted plenty of unrestrained gawkers.
F-Society rules!
Let's hope this pint-size orator grows up to become an active member.
One of Hudson Yards' anchor buildings is nearing completion at the 34th Street junction. I wonder what the High Line will look like from the top floors?
