| The immigrants had their bodies of water, the Mediterranean, the Adriatic, Coney Island. Entirely appropriate now that everybody is assimilated to give at least one, Coney Island, over to fresh new developers. Antonio of Naples took me first thing and senses first awakened by the approaching smell of sea salt and the murmur of indistinct voices on the beach. Cool sand under the boardwalk, the duck. Then the hot sand and the sun. Took my camera there couple of weeks ago, hot foggy Thursday. Had never spent such a lovely solitary day , looking, sitting, shooting, not too many freaks around, much like a decent session of writing. After his wife died, Antonio went down to Florida, the same Atlantic, and fell in love and announced he was going to marry. But his son and daughter wouldn't hear of it! and he gave her up. |
