a tone poem to new york, in the spring -

the skies seem to have opened up on the east coast this year, first :


and the buildings of the greatest city began to shed their winter skins,
to rummage for their true grandeur and alert their guardians that yes,
this was spring, at last:


flowers are appearing:


thankfully, not all of them are printed, some are real:


art makes its seasonal reappearance:


and everyone starts to open their eyes:


the grafitti changes it's colors (how considerate!):


and shoes shed their winter husks at louboutin,
to better tempt their prey:


but, maybe, i'm just seeing things through rose colored glasses: