The customary, obligatory take on the morning sun from our front driveway:
Deliberately shooting out of focus sometimes seems right these days …
My Italian garlic grower friend (and Peter Frampton fan) and I have a telephoto morning chat, socially-distanced by the width of the street:
I hear that T***p wants to eliminate the Post Office …
Downtown banks, like this one, are shuttered and uninviting:
A Tesla seems to be the only car out and about on this block of sad First Avenue today:
Quiet and lonely throughout downtown:
A bee, unable to fly, seems to be approaching death …
The incessantly barking dog:
