So off I went stuffing essentials into my Jean, toting only a digital camera. The trip was like a time machine. The last twenty years I have been to the Bronx only to visit the zoo with my son, but before I had traveled often down from Westchester by bus to catch the D train at Fordham Road. I would ride the train to 57th street and shape for work in the un-air-conditioned union hall. I would listen to incredible stories by lonely men. With luck I would end up unloading a truck for a TV commercial or setting up lights on a movie. All these thoughts came back as I passed the tiled station at Fordham Road.

A trek across ten city blocks brought me to the gate of the New York Botanical Gardens. It being early on a hot weekday, the garden was almost empty. As a child I was entertained by nature more then by tossing a ball at a park. It was a lovely day, I posted the pictures here 932 memories that had been buried came back. The brook on Walgrove Avenue, Mom’s Roses, The Duck pond and Deer pond. The stroll made me aware of how rich and complex the world we live in. For a moment I forgot that life was just self interests of Sex and Money. That is exactly why I came to the garden.