At some point last week, I walked down and sat on a wall opposite the dinghy dock at Ann Street Pier. It was early morning. I had coffee-in-hand and a half-eaten muffin beside me — a Glorious Morning muffin, as I recall. And I was watching a nice green dinghy floating left-to-right then right-to-left, as far as its line would allow, before nudging its way forward for a gentle bump on the dock. This happened again and again. There was something mesmerizing about it. To me, anyway.
But I finally pulled my eyes away and started thinking ... about construction no doubt, as just above the dinghy dock is the newly rebuilt-and-reopened Forty One North. I hadn't ever viewed it from this angle. It's rather glorious, yes?? To my right, in stark contrast, was the back of the Armory. To my left, logs and tires piled precariously on a barge. Behind me loomed some lovely gray-shingled condominiums (condominia??). To my right, assorted construction vehicles. And my half-eaten muffin.
Anyway, a friend suddenly appeared out of nowhere; he rode down the little driveway beside the Armory on his bicycle. He pushed it across the sand (as you can't ride a bike on sand) to where I was sitting, and we talked for a bit ... about construction. This friend is in the construction business. Then another man walked up with a dog on a leash. A long leash. It was just a line, actually, of the marine variety. He had it coiled up as if he were preparing to throw a dock line from boat to shore/dock/cleat/whatever.
So we all chatted amiably for a few minutes until Max — a very large, very sweet golden retriever whose line was a bit too long — got my muffin.
No biggie. It was still a glorious morning ...
