On the train this morning: a man reading Ulysses while simultaneous flirting with a baby.

Tuesday, walking to the train from the New School: an elderly gentlewoman in furs, wheelchair cradled, being pushed along by a well-dressed friend or relative, much younger. Both were singing at the top of their lungs, Wild Irish Rose.

Best of both worlds: about two weeks ago, walking around Gramercy Park park, I noted the last of the summer greens as they mingled with steam from a basement laundry vent. What's better than laundry-warmed air and leaf-rustled gusts?

A marquee on a neighborhood church: The word relieves stress. Actually, I think Word was capitalized, but in the lower-cased sense, amen.