Saturday morning run through Central Park. It was my first time visiting as a resident, not just a tourist, and jogging up the path to 81st Street without any agenda was glorious.
Sunday afternoon I wandered around the West Village, checking out the cafés (I have yet to find my go-to place.) It was cold, but I managed to take off my gloves to capture a few shots.
The Village is full of rich reds, browns and greens, and noticed how yellow taxis stick out here more than other places in the city.
This West Village fountain is a refuge for the city’s weary pigeons.