Photo by myself in the subway, in Brooklyn.
Tonight, the fellow in the doorway and the blurry guy inside the car were two street performers on my subway ride home. I wish I'd been able to take a photo of them in full action, but the ride was stop and go.
Dancers bring along their own boom box. They often do back flips, handstands, push-ups and splits in the middle of the cars. For some reason, I rarely see kids dancing in the subway stations these days, but I've run into many of them performing in the cars, where there is often just a sliver of space between the aisles.
Little things make each day interesting.
Tonight, it was the dancers on the subway. Yesterday, it was the police car pulled up at the house next door for the fourth day in a row. (Mark and I suspect domestic problems).
It's easy to feel that life is routine, when you overlook the subtle details. I wonder what little thing will make tomorrow special?
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