Evening Colors

Just back from a nice week in Virginia celebrating Thanksgiving with my family. 

Nearly all the trees have shed their leaves except for one last holdout, a bright red Japanese maple in the corner of Dad's yard. It's a week or so past its peak and most of the remaining leaves are dry and brittle with curled edges. In the last few hours of the day, the sun drops down and back-lights the fragile leaves. It's strikingly beautiful and vivid. For two evenings I walked slowly in circles under that tree with my little Lumix aiming towards the sky. Though beautiful, I wished I had been there a week earlier. 

Today walking up 6th Avenue these small patches of cracked, peeling paint caught my eye on the sheets of blue plywood they place around construction sites. I got up close and took a few snaps and then noticed more tiny areas of deterioration. I felt the presence of someone behind me and looked over my shoulder. A man and woman were looking at me as I stood less than a foot from the painted wood. Their facial expressions were obvious--"What the hell are you taking pictures of ?" 

They obviously couldn't "see" what I saw. 

Rooftops, West Village at dusk.