
New York Harbor; photo by Roger W. Smith
Watched the Twelfth-month sea-gulls, saw them high in the air floating with motionless wings, oscillating their bodies, — Walt Whitman, “Crossing Brooklyn Ferry”
— posted by Roger W. Smith
August 2025

New York Harbor; photo by Roger W. Smith
Watched the Twelfth-month sea-gulls, saw them high in the air floating with motionless wings, oscillating their bodies, — Walt Whitman, “Crossing Brooklyn Ferry”
— posted by Roger W. Smith
August 2025

Rosa, the proprietor of a fresh fish mart in our neighborhood, is friendly with me and my wife.
We told her we would share some photos.
They are posted here.
Rosa, an immigrant who lives in Queens, wrote back:
Wow.
Such nice beautiful pictures!
New York is so vibrant & beautiful!
You take Such good pictures.
— posted by Roger W. Smith
May 29, 2025



These photographs were taken by me at the northernmost point of Manhattan, in Inwood Hill Park. The view (looking north) is of the Hudson River.
Few New Yorkers, other than those who live in the neighborhood, know of the park or have ever been there.
– posted by Roger W. Smith
January 2025
New York Harbor
photo by Roger W. Smith

photos by Roger W. Smith

Juniper Valley Park, Queens, on a January afternoon
photos by Roger W. Smith


L train 5:08 a.m.

State Street, 5:42 a.m.

New York Harbor, 6:17 a.m.







the Narrows, 6:34a.m.

the Narrows



— posted by Roger W Smith
October 16, 2024
photos by Roger W. Smith












Different times, different seasons.
I have visited as early as four in the morning.
It’s a beautiful spot.
It should be noted that the last photo is of sunrise on the East River. I took it at around 6:25 a.m.
here are some more (from October 2022)

— posted by Roger W. Smith
October 2024
Emma Lazarus, The New Colossus
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”
photos by Roger W. Smith


— posted by Roger W. Smith
September 2024
A few of my favorites, capturing what makes the park such a precious City resource.

— posted by Roger W. Smith
September 2024