Raven Finds Perch in Washington Square Park

East Village, New York

Securing a park bench on a peculiar, sunny yet empty day in Washington Square Park, a girl shot a glance toward the sky just in time to recognize the outline of a raven marking her nose for lunch.  In gut reaction she quickly raised her hand in a “not me” motion, while simultaneously confusing the predator in a feverish wave like motion that suggested “i’m available for company.”

By the third swoop and with graceful care the raven perched on the girl’s index finger, squeezing tightly as if to say “you’re not going anywhere soon except, you know, exactly where you want to be.”  Elated at her new acquaintance, the girl began drifting belly up down the street with hand – raven still snug – nestled atop sternum – singing lightly and wooing her new silky, airborne love to stay just a few pecks longer.  Alas, things must come to an end, and the raven caught wind of another park bench …

Carnival Crush Leads to Snowpacked Skate Adventure

Seattle, WA

Snowstorms and skatebording can be seductive for just about anyone.

Pursuing a long term crush over his friend at the fruit juice-hot dog carnival stand, a man stopped by for lunch but missed his woman just as she got off shift.  Wandering from one building to the next, hot dog in tow, he found himself in the heights of a concrete skateboard tunnel covered in ice and snow.  Glancing left and right he watched people jump and slide, testing the newest brand of ice-skate-ski hybrid “thingies”.

“The guy said I could try it out if I wanted.  It turned out I was a natural”.  Within minutes, the man forgot his limited experience on snow packed ice and had more fun than he’d had in his life, whizzing up curves and gliding around the embankments of a snowy, icy, blizzard bowl!

Unspoken Gypsy Duel

Buenos Aires, Argentina

An old man with golden locks curls up outside a doorway in Buenos Aires, his head pressed against hers like a cat, snuggling as if to say “no ten duda, te quiero, somos familia”.  His hair was a desperately irrisistable mane – maybe it was the way the sunlight smoothed over the curls, she couldn’t help letting her hand run through the locks.

She repeated again and again, he must be taken.  Looking upward she confronted  a middle aged gypsy woman, invisible to the ear, yet strong enough to leave her feeling weaker than she’d been in days.   Her hand slowed, rummaging through a curl, waiting for direction as if one of the three would find fault for the other, running into the back corners of a midnight Milonga.  She watched the gypsy’s eyes follow a frozen palm, waiting for a decision which wasn’t coming.  As the woman’s fingers slid upward on an ankle, “la sur”, the pair kneeled, reading palms until the sun rose and silence broke at morning.