All weekend, a cool haze hung over Brooklyn -- a "marine layer," as they call it in California. Seagulls swirled around the Pulaski Bridge, where we strolled in the drizzle, and the ocean came to mind.
Today in the city the sky was achingly blue, the sun warm, and I thought of a more specific ocean scene -- the Coney Island boardwalk. You can't swim there comfortably, you have to fight for a scrap of towel space on a nice day, and it smells of fried food and sweaty New Yorkers. I can't wait to go back.
