One by one

I like to walk on this street (a fact which, by now, is probably obvious). It's not like Crosby doesn't have competition - one of the most mythic promenades in the world is just a block away. But then again, walkers on Crosby Street contend with neither the rumble of the subway train nor the rattle of the taxis.

Here it's a different assault on the senses. Vehicles double park, a three-legged dog eyes me, that skirt is short, fresh strawberries are $1, this one guy would like to kill that other guy - believe him. You can smell pot sometimes, or read a hundred ad-bills for Spring Awakening all the time. Occasionally, it's safer to walk in the street than on the sidewalk.

Today it rained, and I didn't do much walking on Crosby Street. I missed it, because it's nice to hear the noises of the city outside of the usual din. On Crosby, the Gotham cacophony relaxes into individual events, and the walker can appreciate the city in sequence.

It isn't peaceful, it's New York peaceful.