A Fine Ferry

I had seven years to photograph Brooklyn, now that the tree is down the measuring begins. My beat was Brooklyn Heights, Borough Hall to the Promenade and back again, and again, and again the same walk, day after day, twenty eight seasons, a half hour to photograph, a quick bite for lunch and then back to the JOB.

The Staten Island Ferry was a favorite subject, some days barely visible through the fog, other days brilliantly lit by a shaft of light through the clouds. The journey between lower Manhattan, across the harbor, negotiating its way through maritime traffic disappearing from view behind Governors Island as it approached the Statue of Liberty, the quintessential New York scene.