There’s new construction going all over the Brooklyn neighborhoods where I spend my time. The next block of my street scarcely has two of the commercial buildings that were there three years ago. There are towers pushing up along the river, and ringing McCarren Park.

It’s easy to feel angry and scared about the change, and the ugliness, but the other day as I was walking past the building site for some luxury glass condos, Fishing in the Morning by Dar Williams came on to my headphones:

Let’s go fishing in the morning,
Just like we’ve always gone,
You can come inside and wake me up,
We’ll pack and leave by dawn…

And you’ll say I hear something,
And I’ll say never you mind,
It’s just our two poles knocking in the back seat,
And your truck is running fine, today, and everything is fine.

Listening to the lyrics, I looked up at the open structure and saw workmen, so high up that they looked like tiny ink drawings of men, or miniature dolls. Instead of feeling bitter or sad, I was filled with the sense that the steel beams have something useful to say about the relentlessness of change, and that the men perched on the metal bones were showing me the smallness and perfection of each life.

We’re two fishing poles in the back seat,
We’re the rolling on and on…

Walking in New York, you see spirals everywhere. Or at least I do. I’ve started photographing them – these ones from the Greenpoint neighborhood of Brooklyn:

The more you look, the more you find.

In other news – I’ve been tagged for 2 memes in just a couple of days. I have my thinking hat on and I’ll post soon…

Some things I noticed this week:

A woman cycling very slowly with an accordion on her back.

Two fat sparrows scavenging nest-building supplies on a pile of abandoned rubble.

The wind vane on the steeple of the Jefferson Market library swinging wildly 45 degrees back and forth while no one on 6th Avenue noticed besides me .

A pug racing around the dog park with a bulldog, a weimaraner, a german shepherd, and two black labs.

A man giving his subway seat to a lady wearing a purple raincoat and a bell-shaped pink & purple felted hat.

A plastic bag floating in place, 3 floors up.

A two-year-old stopping traffic on a busy stair while he insisted on taking them one at a time.

The distinct smell of hyacinths on a crowded bus.

Shula, of Poppalina, has started a flickr group called Mosaic Monday. Mosaic Maker is the whatever-it-is that tiles your chosen pictures – it’s good playin’.

I took these photos on Sunday while we ran errands in Greenpoint; searching out the rumored new kitchen store, where we happened upon a demo on Gefilte fish, and exploring the Polish bookstore with it’s strange and exciting Easter finery. They also have an exceptional collection of commemorative Pope John Paul paraphernalia if you’re ever in need.

I passed the green boots, sitting out like that, on my way home tonight.

Subway Knitter is a blog devoted to knitting in public. Mystery Knitter of the Week is my favorite part; a feature in which she shows covert photos of strangers knitting on the subway, in airports, and even walking down the street.

Highly entertaining, although in future I may be torn between focusing on my commuting project and scanning for sneaky photographers.

I read a lovely post by Soule Mama yesterday about the quiet you can find in cities.

This morning I left home a little early, and as I rounded the corner onto Myrtle Avenue, the main shopping strip in my neighborhood, I saw a large V of geese flying overhead. Then I realized that I could hear them. Over my iPod.

I took my earphones out and stood staring, head back, watching the lead bird fall back and another goose take it’s place.

Deep joy.

(photo c/o the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration. NOAA is redoing their website, so for now the link has disappeared. Hopefully it’ll be back soon.)

Sunday night and I’m still tired. A month into adjusting to a new schedule, new outside work, and increased commuting, I figure it’ll take another month or two to recover my stride.

I’m spending daily chunks on public transportation. A week ago I watched the man in front of me on the bus crochet a hat at high velocity as we bumped along. Just when I was wondering if he was following a pattern, he carefully took off the wonderful hat he was wearing (and had obviously made) and placed the little hat-to-be, yarmulke-style, on his head, checking that the shaping was correct. By the time I got off he had it down to his ears.

Inspired by this sighting as well as by Jude over at Spirit Cloth who quilts while commuting, and having run out of reading material, I have started knitting while traveling. I thought I’d feel self-conscious but I’m far too absorbed for that. And when standing on the subway, I’m far too busy keeping my balance. (I’ve found that bracing against the door frame and keeping my knees bent works well.)

It’s amazing how much I can get done in these in-between times. I finished a beret in a few days, a bigger version of the Purl Bee pattern, which is being blocked as I write, stretched over a dinner plate.

I’ve had a considerable amount of dental work done over the past year. I go to a university dental school where the students are required to seek the approval of faculty before they do any thing, which makes for a lot of waiting. I usually bring a book, but yesterday I had my knitting.

There was a classic rock station playing, and here’s what I have to report: You’re The One That I Want from Grease makes for some serious speed-knitting. Roberta Flack’s Killing Me Softly With His Song, not so much.

Looking through my photographs I found these four that belong together:

unfurling on a fence in Astoria, Queens,

my new blue glass,

favorite pajama bottoms,

and the fireworks last July 4th.

It snowed here last night for the first time this winter. There was a light dusting on the roofs, the sun came out, and it’s gone. Kind of pathetic. I should really be grateful that there wasn’t enough to cause the huge slush lakes at every street corner which have me walking 15 feet down the sidewalk just to find a point where I can cross without drowning.

I thought I’d share another piece I made for circle play, this one a bizarre crochet lotus I made while on a camping trip in Michigan. Must have been going for my “crazy crafter” girl scout badge.