Bay Ridge, Brooklyn, NY. June, 2015

My friend Nick, who grew up with a garden in his Newark backyard, loves to get his hands in the dirt and grow things. So I'm thrilled for him that now, after decades of living in Manhattan, he's recently moved to a Brooklyn apartment with, yes, a garden! Here it is, a work in progress when I visited. When I showed this photo to Nick, he reminded me that since I took the picture, he's added several wax bean plants, some cornichons, some haricots verts, some arugula, etc. There is no stopping him.

New York, New York. June, 2015

I grew up in New Jersey and spent a great deal of my teenage and college years in Manhattan. I know my way around. And yet...even now when I visit, it's awfully hard not to look up, just like all the other tourists around me are doing. Here's one skyward view from down in the financial district.

Rabat, Morocco. November, 2013

One of the many things I love about Morocco is that you'll be walking along, past countless buildings that are sandstone- or terra cotta- colored, and then something shocking like this appears. It's one of the things I love about the Southwest USA, too. Alas, somehow it doesn't work where I live in New England.

New York, NY. June, 2015

I never called it "gay marriage." I called it "marriage equality." And now that the Supremes have ruled that the right to marry applies to everyone equally, can we simply call it "marriage"? Thank you. Now available to all Americans, from sea to shining sea. Happy Independence Day.

Watertown, MA. June, 2015

A house across the street from me was sold months ago and has remained dark and vacant for weeks. Until tonight. Walking home after dark, I saw that it had turned into a beacon, every room in the empty house fully illuminated and shining bright. It was thrilling and spooky and, well, see for yourself.

Istanbul. June, 2007

You learn something new every day. Today, the 15th day of Ramadan, is when the Ottoman sultan, beginning in the 17th century, honored his household troops and bodyguards (called Janissaries) with trays of baklava. (If they refused the sweets, it indicated that they were unhappy with their work conditions or salaries.) The Janissaries, according to one source, would carry the trays in boxes on their heads as they paraded through the city in a ceremony known as Baklava Alayi. One tray of baklava for every ten soldiers. Sounds about right. As long as it was a big tray. (Thanks to my friend Nick for telling me about this custom.)

Nessebar, Bulgaria. September, 2014

I love the red-lettered shorthand this businessman used to instill confidence. Would you trust them?