Instead of spending the holiday out here in the country this year, I was invited into Manhattan for a city Thanksgiving with an old friend. So in lieu of basting the turkey and preparing all the trimmings, I arrived early with my camera hoping to spend the afternoon on the street with my camera working on a new project.
But alas, the weather didn't cooperate. On the ride in, drops of water covered the windshield. At 2:30 I found myself on the sidewalk in the midst of a light rain without an umbrella and with two hours to kill.
Where to go? I wondered; most everything seemed to be closed, even the Star Bucks on every other block. So I covered my hair with my silk scarf and headed toward the lobby of a nearby hotel. Once inside, I discovered that I wasn't the only one in need of shelter. Men, women and children were sprawled out in every direction. Luckily, I managed to find some space on the corner of a coach. For an hour, I tried to read a novel on my Kindle, but one eye remained fixed on the scene outside the front door.
Will my friend really care that my clothes are wet? That my hair is flat and frizzy? I asked myself. No, I answered rushing out into the rain to follow the umbrellas bobbing by.