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Call me smitten . . . but when I must, I can walk away. The waving girl waved, but when I approached and proposed some fairly straight forward project, she said naught. Nothing. Mute she was! Taciturnus maximus! And so, upriver I headed. With regrets galore, of course, for my own protection. Whatever there is of Tugster that needs to be protected. But before I left, I tried to play with perspectives not available in the sixth boro . . . aka 6B.
Like . . . height. YM Los Angeles as seen from a little over 100′ above the water head on and
All fotos by Will Van Dorp, who by now hopes to be in Virginia, making his way back to the sixth boro, with Georgia–at least Savannah–on my mind. I’m blessed to have excellent navigators–Elizabeth and a parrot–helping me see the otherwise unseen. Well, the parrot does suggest tangents we can’t quite follow.