Tag Archives: l’heure bleue

Chasing Light…

So as many of you know I have been voluntarily car-free for a few years now. It does have it’s hardships now and again (I’d be fibbing if I said otherwise) but the good far outweighs the negative (as is with most things in life). This said, one of the things I love about being on a bike is seeing all that is around me and in all weather conditions. And two of my favorite times to shoot photos are dawn and dusk. I am up at dawn a few times a week for work but usually do not have time to take photos, thus most of them are shot at dusk. The French have a phrase for these times of day…l’heure bleue (the blue hour) because of the distinctive blue hue the sky often takes and the way colors are enhanced. A camera has three ways in which one can manipulate how much light enters it and for how long, this is called the “exposure triangle.” There is also, of course, post-upload software to help enhance photos. But with the camera itself, and the software, nothing can compare to what natural light offers to a photo. And with this in mind–when I have the intention of going out to take photos in the evening–I usually time it…I check the sunset time and head out with enough time to set up my camera and have a beer or glass of wine. The thing is I often under-shoot the time, meaning I cut myself short and have to hurry. Sometimes I think I must look like a crazy person; the waterfront is about 2 or 3 miles from my house and I can only imagine the sight of me…a middle aged guy on a bike pedaling as fast as he can while looking at the sky. The perfect light only lasts minutes, sometimes seconds; one minute can drastically change a photo’s look. This is why I think of it as “chasing light.”

Urban Simplicity.

Chasing Light…

So as many of you know I have been voluntarily car-free for a few years now. It does have it’s hardships now and again (I’d be fibbing if I said otherwise) but the good far outweighs the negative (as is with most things in life). This said, one of the things I love about being on a bike is seeing all that is around me and in all weather conditions. And two of my favorite times to shoot photos are dawn and dusk. I am up at dawn a few times a week for work but usually do not have time to take photos, thus most of them are shot at dusk. The French have a phrase for these times of day…l’heure bleue (the blue hour) because of the distinctive blue hue the sky often takes and the way colors are enhanced. A camera has three ways in which one can manipulate how much light enters it and for how long, this is called the “exposure triangle.” There is also, of course, post-upload software to help enhance photos. But with the camera itself, and the software, nothing can compare to what natural light offers to a photo. And with this in mind–when I have the intention of going out to take photos in the evening–I usually time it…I check the sunset time and head out with enough time to set up my camera and have a beer or glass of wine. The thing is I often under-shoot the time, meaning I cut myself short and have to hurry. Sometimes I think I must look like a crazy person; the waterfront is about 2 or 3 miles from my house and I can only imagine the sight of me…a middle aged guy on a bike pedaling as fast as he can while looking at the sky. The perfect light only lasts minutes, sometimes seconds; one minute can drastically change a photo’s look. This is why I think of it as “chasing light.”

Urban Simplicity.

On the waterfront (bis)…

Okay. So sorry about the multiple pictures of Buffalo’s waterfront. I have posted from this same vantage point on numerous times prior. But I just find it so fascinating. Every time I go there for a couple beers (there’s a beautiful outdoor bar) and to take photos I see something different even if looking at the same scene as before. I shot these a couple evenings ago. I really like them all but the most dramatic, I think, is the one pictured above. I saw this when I first arrived…this crazy turbulent low-lying cloud just sort of rolling across the lake and above us. And rolling is a good description because I later found that it is actually called a “roll cloud” (or Arcus cloud). Shortly thereafter there was lightening and rain; this cloud was a sort of precursor. Anyhow, and I apologize in advance, but there will likely be more waterfront photos before the summer is finished…

Urban Simplicity.

A Poem by Edwina Gateley…

 Photos taken at Buffalo Harbor 7.12.15

Let Your God Love You

Be silent.

Be still.
Alone.
Empty
Before your God.
Say nothing.
Ask nothing.
Be silent.
Be still.
Let your God look upon you.
That is all.
God knows.
God understands.
God loves you
With an enormous love,
And only wants
To look upon you
With that love.
Quiet.
Still.
Be.

Let your God
Love you.

Urban Simplicit

A Poem by Edwina Gateley…

 Photos taken at Buffalo Harbor 7.12.15
Let Your God Love You

Be silent.
Be still.
Alone.
Empty
Before your God.
Say nothing.
Ask nothing.
Be silent.
Be still.
Let your God look upon you.
That is all.
God knows.
God understands.
God loves you
With an enormous love,
And only wants
To look upon you
With that love.
Quiet.
Still.
Be.

Let your God
Love you.

Urban Simplicity.

This is Bob…

This is Bob (Bob Dendy to be exact…sorta like dandy only with an “e,” he told me). Just when I thought I’ve met every eccentric person in Allentown along comes Bob…wearing striped shorts, wide tie, suspenders, colorful sneakers, and socks pulled up tight. I was out doing one of my favorite pastimes (though I haven’t in a while)…going out for a few beers and taking photos of my eclectic neighborhood. Anyhow, I had a beer and was waiting for the light to change as my favorite time to take photos is but there is still light in the sky which gives it a lovely blue hue (hence it’s designation). And there I was, a pint of beer in my belly and feeling somewhat stunned from lack of sleep, setting up my tripod, when I hear, “Hello…hi…what are you doing?” It was Bob. He was carrying a milk-crate full of stuff and told me he was an educator. When I asked who he educated he told me anyone who would listen. So I listened; I love to hear peoples stories. It turns out Bob is from Toronto; apparently grew up there and here. When I asked if I could take his photo he darted in front of the camera, “Well if you want to. Just tell me what to do.” And when I asked him if he would hold his crate of stuff he grabbed it and said, “Oh, now you want to make it real.” We talked for about 20 minutes, and I enjoyed it thoroughly. It turns out there are a lot of coincidences in our lives. When we parted and shook hands I could tell by the callouses on his hands that he has lived a life of hard work. He never did tell me what he taught, but I learned a few things from him. I learned (or at least remembered), that everyone has a story, and this is what I find fascinating. I declined his offer to stop by his place for a beer (turns out I know the person that owns the house he lives in), but nonetheless, people like Bob are what keep life interesting, at least for me.

Urban Simplicity.

This is Bob…

This is Bob (Bob Dendy to be exact…sorta like dandy only with an “e,” he told me). Just when I thought I’ve met every eccentric person in Allentown along comes Bob…wearing striped shorts, wide tie, suspenders, colorful sneakers, and socks pulled up tight. I was out doing one of my favorite pastimes (though I haven’t in a while)…going out for a few beers and taking photos of my eclectic neighborhood. Anyhow, I had a beer and was waiting for the light to change as my favorite time to take photos is but there is still light in the sky which gives it a lovely blue hue (hence it’s designation). And there I was, a pint of beer in my belly and feeling somewhat stunned from lack of sleep, setting up my tripod, when I hear, “Hello…hi…what are you doing?” It was Bob. He was carrying a milk-crate full of stuff and told me he was an educator. When I asked who he educated he told me anyone who would listen. So I listened; I love to hear peoples stories. It turns out Bob is from Toronto; apparently grew up there and here. When I asked if I could take his photo he darted in front of the camera, “Well if you want to. Just tell me what to do.” And when I asked him if he would hold his crate of stuff he grabbed it and said, “Oh, now you want to make it real.” We talked for about 20 minutes, and I enjoyed it thoroughly. It turns out there are a lot of coincidences in our lives. When we parted and shook hands I could tell by the callouses on his hands that he has lived a life of hard work. He never did tell me what he taught, but I learned a few things from him. I learned (or at least remembered), that everyone has a story, and this is what I find fascinating. I declined his offer to stop by his place for a beer (turns out I know the person that owns the house he lives in), but nonetheless, people like Bob are what keep life interesting, at least for me.

Urban Simplicity.

Bleu…how I felt and what I saw…and on starting over (in words and pictures)


“So what do we do? Anything. Something. So long as we just don’t sit there. If we screw it up, start over. Try something else. If we wait until we’ve satisfied all the uncertainties, it may be too late.”
~Lee Iacocca 

So a couple things. One is….isn’t color incredibly beautiful? The way the light changes. Sometimes I forget this. There is the phrase, the blue hour (or l’heure bleue), that refers to that point of morning or evening when the sun is just about to rise, or in this case, has just set but there is still light in the sky. And the angle of the light radiating from the sun through the hemisphere creates this incredibly beautiful blue hue (yes, post uploading processing helps, but just a little). But I’m jumping ahead as I often do. Let me begin again.

Today is Ash Wednesday, the symbolic day when Jesus went into the dessert to meditate for forty days, and when Christians are supposed to metaphorically replicate this and look within themselves (to step into their own personal desert), to assess, to renew, to serve. I really enjoy this time of year (and that may sound odd because it is sort of morose),but I do. Introspection suits me. But I’m jumping ahead, again. Let me start over, again.

In the times in which we live, to be a chef one must be an extrovert, or at least a pretend extrovert. I fall into the latter category. I am nearly 100% INFJ but on the job I have to act as an extrovert’s extrovert…calling out orders all day, correcting, and even reprimanding, but also nourishing, complimenting, and encouraging. In short, it can and is exhausting some (most) days. And this is what I have been doing for more than half my life during this incarnation. Pretending to be an extrovert. Thus said, let me begin again.

I had such high hopes for the beginning of this Lenten season…high hopes of personal change. And then yesterday happened. I had an altercation with an employee that escalated to a yelling match dropping f-bombs left and right. I am no angel, I never said I was. Everyone has their buttons that can be pushed. And when this happens–when it’s over–I internalize it. Last night I barely slept. And today I could not and cannot appreciate the depth and breadth of this sacred and mystical time of Lent. But I can start over. Begin again. We all can, I suppose. Every day.

This morning I worked my first job, and then rode my bike to a very short shift at my second job. And when that was over I got on my bike and rode in no particular direction. Not too far, mind you, as it was cold. But I just rode. And when I stopped I was facing the scene in the bottom photo. It took my breath away. I’ve taken many photos from that spot, which is Hoyt Lake at Delaware park, but I was there at just the right time tonight. It looked almost mystical. When I walked to the edge of the lake the snow was so deep it was up to my thighs, and when I set up my tripod it was stunted because I stood on the snow but the tripod’s legs pushed down into it.

And as I stood there with my gloves off my fingers began to sting in the cold, my feet crunched in the cold snow, and my breath fogged up the camera view finder. But it was incredible; it was beautiful. For a few moments I just stood there. And at that moment nothing mattered or made sense to me. How silly, I thought to myself, it is that we humans treat each other (as an employee and I did yesterday as we yelled at each other in a heated argument)…even though we are interconnected.

So tomorrow I choose to start over. It is my choice, after all. Will things be perfect…nope. Will things be rectified with the employee in mention…doubtful. But I can begin again. Anew. Because in the finite time that we have on this planet in this current incarnation each day is like a little cross-section–a little slice–of our entire life. And I do not feel like wasting it. Standing in nearly the same spot, but trudging through snow while dragging my camera, tripod, and heavy bike, I took a few more photos, which really seemed to connect me to this time and place…to the present.

Anyhow, this is what I was thinking as I stood in the cold while looking at the same blue that countless people and generations have seen before me. The thing is, sometimes I can see it and sometimes I can’t. Tonight I did, and it was beautiful. Tomorrow I (and we) begin again. I just hope I don’t screw it up.

Urban Simplicity.

Not since 1885…

The above photo is of the Theodore Roosevelt Inaugural Site, which is where Teddy Roosevelt was sworn in as the 26th president of the United States after the assassination of William McKinley in 1901. The building was originally built in 1839 as a a sort of army barracks outpost to ward of those crazy Anglo-Canadians (wink wink). But that’s not what this post is about. This is about what happened–or didn’t happen–in 1885, which actually has something to do with today. If you notice the photo above is on an ever so slight slant, that is because my fingers were in pain from the cold as I held the camera. Today nearly set a record. In February of 1885 Mark Twain (former Buffalonian) published the Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, the Washington Monument was dedicated, and Grover Cleveland (former mayor of Buffalo) was inaugurated as the first democratic president since the Civil War.  But also, in the 145 years since the weather has been recorded there was only one day that was colder than today, and that was February 11, 1885 when the temperatures did not reach above -4F. Today it made it to -3F. That doesn’t even make sense to me when I use it in a sentence…”today’s high was minus 3″…I understand the words but how they are arranged seems confusing. The house I live in was built around 1860, and with my steam boiler churning away and logs roaring in the wood-burner it is nice and toasty, but I can only imagine how they kept warm 130 years ago. And with the roller-coaster weather we consistently have these days, if you happen to be a climate change denier please un-follow me and this blog because there is no longer anything to deny. Anyhow, below are a few more photos I took this evening. I was actually warm on the bike (which is pictured in the bottom photo), but when I took off my mitts for just a minute to control the camera my fingers began to sting; it hurt to breath sometimes so I kept a scarf around my face which froze with my body’s own condensation; when I blinked my eyelashes would stick together from watering/freezing. Tonight’s low is supposed to be -14 and I have a two mile ride at 8am, so please send positive energy my way. Click any photo for a larger view.

Urban Simplicity.

Not since 1885…

The above photo is of the Theodore Roosevelt Inaugural Site, which is where Teddy Roosevelt was sworn in as the 26th president of the United States after the assassination of William McKinley in 1901. The building was originally built in 1839 as a a sort of army barracks outpost to ward of those crazy Anglo-Canadians (wink wink). But that’s not what this post is about. This is about what happened–or didn’t happen–in 1885, which actually has something to do with today. If you notice the photo above is on an ever so slight slant, that is because my fingers were in pain from the cold as I held the camera. Today nearly set a record. In February of 1885 Mark Twain (former Buffalonian) published the Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, the Washington Monument was dedicated, and Grover Cleveland (former mayor of Buffalo) was inaugurated as the first democratic president since the Civil War.  But also, in the 145 years since the weather has been recorded there was only one day that was colder than today, and that was February 11, 1885 when the temperatures did not reach above -4F. Today it made it to -3F. That doesn’t even make sense to me when I use it in a sentence…”today’s high was minus 3″…I understand the words but how they are arranged seems confusing. The house I live in was built around 1860, and with my steam boiler churning away and logs roaring in the wood-burner it is nice and toasty, but I can only imagine how they kept warm 130 years ago. And with the roller-coaster weather we consistently have these days, if you happen to be a climate change denier please un-follow me and this blog because there is no longer anything to deny. Anyhow, below are a few more photos I took this evening. I was actually warm on the bike (which is pictured in the bottom photo), but when I took off my mitts for just a minute to control the camera my fingers began to sting; it hurt to breath sometimes so I kept a scarf around my face which froze with my body’s own condensation; when I blinked my eyelashes would stick together from watering/freezing. Tonight’s low is supposed to be -14 and I have a two mile ride at 8am, so please send positive energy my way. Click any photo for a larger view.

Urban Simplicity.

A few things I saw riding my bike in the past few days, and a few words, too…

So this is shaping up to be another trying winter on a bicycle. Most days I enjoy it, but other times I don’t. There is something really fun and satisfying about propelling one’s self through the snow on a bike. But I’d also be lying if I didn’t say this is about the time I begin to pine for spring and summer. Anyhow, the photos (in descending order and beginning below) are this…Allentown–my neighborhood–at dusk on a cold night. The next photo is of Frank and Teresa’s Anchor bar. And for those who are reading this but not from the area, this is the restaurant where “Buffalo-style” chicken wings originated, but around these parts they are just called wings. The next photo is of a cross on an abandoned church I rode passed the other day. The way the rusted cross shone in the winter’s sun while it cast a shadow on boarded up stained glass windows, stopped me in my tracks. There are a lot of metaphors in that photo, and I could go on, but I won’t. The next two photos I took today….trees and birds in the snow on a cold day. Click any photo for a larger view.

Urban Simplicity.

Stop Making Sense…a few things I saw while riding my bike today.

I don’t have to prove…that I am creative.

~David Byrne

So I mentioned recently that I–like so many others–have been ill with the common cold. And because of this I have been basically doing nothing around the house…sort of self-sequestered. And because of this my spirits have been low. If there are two things that bring me down they are physical inactivity and creative inactivity…so this has been the perfect storm. Thus said, this evening I bundled up–layer upon layer–and loaded some camera gear on my bike and went out on a very cold evening for a very slow ride and a few photos. Physically I am not cured, but emotionally and spiritually I am. It is, in fact, just what the doctor may have ordered. Click any photo for a slightly larger view.

Urban Simplicity.

Stop Making Sense…a few things I saw while riding my bike today.

I don’t have to prove…that I am creative.
~David Byrne

So I mentioned recently that I–like so many others–have been ill with the common cold. And because of this I have been basically doing nothing around the house…sort of self-sequestered. And because of this my spirits have been low. If there are two things that bring me down they are physical inactivity and creative inactivity…so this has been the perfect storm. Thus said, this evening I bundled up–layer upon layer–and loaded some camera gear on my bike and went out on a very cold evening for a very slow ride and a few photos. Physically I am not cured, but emotionally and spiritually I am. It is, in fact, just what the doctor may have ordered. Click any photo for a slightly larger view.

Urban Simplicity.

On the waterfront…

Today I went down to Buffalo’s Outer Harbor in search of the elusive snowy owl that has taken up home in Western New York. And no, I did not ride my bike the six miles each way in these frigid temperatures, I used Buffalo Car Share. To be honest, I actually contemplated it but am glad I did not…the high today was like 15F and when I got to the shore of the lake the wind was so strong that I had to lean into it and brace myself to take a photo…my hands were frozen (as I took my leather mitts off to adjust and snap the camera) and I had to remember to hold the lens cap (which is attached to the camera by a string) or the wind would whip it around and it would smack me in the side of the head. Thus said, I have to admit that it was nice to find refuge in the warmth of a car in between photos. But alas, I did not see a snowy owl…or a fox, or a coyote, or a deer, or a falcon, or an eagle (all of which live in the area). In fact, the only “animals” I did see were other photographers in search of snowy owls. But, despite the wind burning and bone chilling cold, I really enjoyed myself and was in awe of the power of Mother Nature, and was (and still am) thankful to live in proximity to such an incredible natural resource (it’s a 20 minute bike ride in nicer weather). Anyhow, click any photo for a slightly larger view.


Urban Simplicity.

On the waterfront…

Today I went down to Buffalo’s Outer Harbor in search of the elusive snowy owl that has taken up home in Western New York. And no, I did not ride my bike the six miles each way in these frigid temperatures, I used Buffalo Car Share. To be honest, I actually contemplated it but am glad I did not…the high today was like 15F and when I got to the shore of the lake the wind was so strong that I had to lean into it and brace myself to take a photo…my hands were frozen (as I took my leather mitts off to adjust and snap the camera) and I had to remember to hold the lens cap (which is attached to the camera by a string) or the wind would whip it around and it would smack me in the side of the head. And I purposely went around dusk because this is when not only owls but other animals are said to hunt, but also so I could capture the natural blue hue of a winter’s cold sunset…but the temperature was dropping. Thus said, I have to admit that it was nice to find refuge in the warmth of a car in between photos. But alas, I did not see a snowy owl…or a fox, or a coyote, or a deer, or a falcon, or an eagle (all of which live in the area). In fact, the only “animals” I did see were other photographers in search of snowy owls. But, despite the wind burning and bone chilling cold, I really enjoyed myself and was in awe of the power of Mother Nature, and was (and still am) thankful to live in proximity to such an incredible natural resource (it’s a 20 minute bike ride in nicer weather). Anyhow, click any photo for a slightly larger view.


Urban Simplicity.

Playing with light, color, and motion…


“The principle person in a picture is light.”

~Edouard Manet

So yesterday I took the metro bus to Niagara Falls. Even though I live very close to to this incredible natural wonder I rarely get there. I went with the main purpose of taking photos, and being there was sort of like being a tourist in my own backyard. The bus ride incredibly cost a mere $2.00 each way and dropped me off  just 500 feet from the Rainbow Bridge (if you are local and would like the bus schedule, here it is). I arrived in late afternoon and, after having a lunch at an inexpensive Indian restaurant, walked across the bridge and was immediately thrust into tourist-ville. I walked about a mile down to the horseshoe falls and snapped a few photos but really wanted evening photos during l’heure bleue, and also later when the falls were lit with colored spotlights. I had time to kill until the sun began to set, so I walked up the uber-touristy Clifton Hill and had a couple over-priced but really delicious Canadian beers. After the beers were drunk, the sun had begun to set, and I felt sufficiently satiated, I headed back out to the horseshoe falls area. To capture that point when the sun has set but there is still light in the sky is often what I try to do. It is, I feel, one of the most magical times of the day, but you really only have a window of about 20 or 30 minutes. It’s all about the light, it really is. And this is something that fascinates me about photography…learning how to manipulate it. There are three ways in which to manipulate light and motion using your camera. Please excuse me if you are a pro or already know this, as I feebly attempt to explain this in the most basic terms and description…because this is really for myself as I am an ongoing student. Anyhow, the three ways are this…ISO, which adjusts the camera’s sensitivity to light; a high ISO makes the camera more sensitive, allowing more light to be captured, but it also creates a lot of “noise,” or distortion in the photo, thus most often a lower ISO is desired. The other two ways are aperture, which adjusts how much light is allowed in the camera, and shutter speed which not only allows how long the shutter is open–allowing light into the camera for specific lengths of time–but also purposely blurs certain images when a slow shutter speed is used. Why, you may ask, am I boring you with this? Because this info is pertinent to these photos and why I have four of the same photo but at different camera setting and at different times of the day. The two most distinct examples of this are in the first two images below…they were shot only about a minute apart. The next one was shot after the sun had just set, and the one after that after the sun had fully set and they began to illuminate the falls. The very bottom photo is one I took as I walked back towards the bridge on my way home; it is, of course, the Skylon Tower with lights shining on the falls. And lastly (or should I say firstly), the photo above is of the American Falls as seen from the Canadian side at night. One final note…though I have been to the falls multiple times in my lifetime, when I approached the edge of the horseshoe falls I was quite literally in awe. It really is incredible to see them so close. It really reminded me that I am not in control of anything. Click any photo for a slightly larger view.

Urban Simplicity.

Playing with light, color, and motion…


“The principle person in a picture is light.”
~Edouard Manet

So yesterday I took the metro bus to Niagara Falls. Even though I live very close to to this incredible natural wonder I rarely get there. I went with the main purpose of taking photos, and being there was sort of like being a tourist in my own backyard. The bus ride incredibly cost a mere $2.00 each way and dropped me off  just 500 feet from the Rainbow Bridge (if you are local and would like the bus schedule, here it is). I arrived in late afternoon and, after having a lunch at an inexpensive Indian restaurant, walked across the bridge and was immediately thrust into tourist-ville. I walked about a mile down to the horseshoe falls and snapped a few photos but really wanted evening photos during l’heure bleue, and also later when the falls were lit with colored spotlights. I had time to kill until the sun began to set, so I walked up the uber-touristy Clifton Hill and had a couple over-priced but really delicious Canadian beers. After the beers were drunk, the sun had begun to set, and I felt sufficiently satiated, I headed back out to the horseshoe falls area. To capture that point when the sun has set but there is still light in the sky is often what I try to do. It is, I feel, one of the most magical times of the day, but you really only have a window of about 20 or 30 minutes. It’s all about the light, it really is. And this is something that fascinates me about photography…learning how to manipulate it. But natural light–the one offered to use through nature–is the light that cannot be manipulated…you have to wait for it. There are, though, three ways in which one can sort of trick the light and motion, which is a sort of manipulation, I suppose, using your camera. Please excuse me if you are a pro or already know this, as I feebly attempt to explain this in the most basic terms and description…because this is really for myself as I am an ongoing student. Anyhow, the three ways are this…ISO, which adjusts the camera’s sensitivity to light; a high ISO makes the camera more sensitive, allowing more light to be captured, but it also creates a lot of “noise,” or distortion in the photo, thus most often a lower ISO is desired. The other two ways are aperture, which adjusts how much light is allowed in the camera, and shutter speed which not only allows how long the shutter is open–allowing light into the camera for specific lengths of time–but also purposely blurs certain images when a slow shutter speed is used. Why, you may ask, am I boring you with this? Because this info is pertinent to these photos and why I have four of the same photo but at different camera setting and at different times of the day. The two most distinct examples of this are in the first two images below…they were shot only about a minute apart. The next one was shot after the sun had just set, and the one after that after the sun had fully set and they began to illuminate the falls. The very bottom photo is one I took as I walked back towards the bridge on my way home; it is, of course, the Skylon Tower with lights shining on the falls. And lastly (or should I say firstly), the photo above is of the American Falls as seen from the Canadian side at night. One final note…though I have been to the falls multiple times in my lifetime, when I approached the edge of the horseshoe falls I was quite literally in awe. It really is incredible to see them so close. It really reminded me that I am not in control of anything. Click any photo for a slightly larger view.

A cold evening ride and a few things that I saw…

Last evening after I left work–after rushing around a busy kitchen all day–I really needed some fresh air and the evening felt so crisp and nice I grabbed my camera and went for a brief ride. I headed down to Canalside because I wanted to see the brand new ice rink that just opened. While there I rode through the Naval Park and past the USS Croaker (pictured below), and on my way home I rode down desolate and quiet Main Street, which is currently being rehabbed to bring cars back but also inclusive to bicycles and pedestrians (second from the bottom). Anyhow, the ride was just what I needed, and I thought I’d share some of the pictures I took along the way. Click any for a larger view.

Urban Simplicity.