I’m kinda worn out by writing all these introspective medicine posts all the time, so I’m taking a break and showing off instead! In June, my roommates and I moved down the hall, the result being that while sitting at my desk, I turn my head left and see this:
Prominent in my view’s skyline are, from right to left:
- 432 Park, that irritating pencil skyscraper next to Central Park
- 731 Lexington, with the row of lights on top
- Citigroup Building, the slanted one
- the Empire State Building antenna, barely visible
- the Chrysler Building spire, tucked in between buildings
- 406 E 67th, a random residential in left foreground
While impressive and all, the skyline becomes truly breathtaking when the sky behind it is draped in some spectacular phenomenon. For instance, clouds in golden hour:
In fact, since moving in 4 months ago, I’ve whip out my camera (literally in arm’s reach) to document special conditions. I face southwest towards downtown, which is ideal for sunsets. One weeks ago was exceptionally dynamic:
That means the sun rises from frame left, and the buildings cut the morning light into strange silhouettes on each others’ edifices.
And because med school will be med school, I have a few pre-sunrise photos too.
As always, I’m a fan of fog, which emphasizes depth in landscapes. Tops of distant buildings fade into the distance behind cumulative layers of mist.
We had a few flash thunderstorms this summer, which means foreboding storm clouds and rain on one side of the sky with blue skies on the other. Apparently there was a vivid rainbow this day downtown, but I’d returned to the hospital by then.
During torrential downpours, the windowpane itself begs for attention.
I’ll keep an eye out from my vantage point for more photo ops. Most of my view is lateral surfaces, so we’ll see how different a blanket of white snow will change it. Until then, I’ll leave you with this morning’s pink sunrise.
PS. for comparison, my view last year from down the hall:
