I had a whole other idea for a post and I was going to use this photo with it but I found myself staring at the photo for so long it became the subject.
I took the photo in December just before Christmas. We were in the city for a few days and the newly re-opened Rockefeller Wing of the Metropolitan was the centerpiece of our visit. This woman was standing outside as we walked by. As I moved closer to take the photo she pointed and yelled something. I had the feeling she might have been yelling at me. I didn’t even see the ironing board she was standing behind.
I put my caption under the photo and then googled “Pigeon woman Metropolitan“ NYC. “I found a recent story from the New Yorker by Ian Frazier with this description:
1 Comment“She has a folding table; an ironing board; a cart with handles at both ends that contains a dozen or more orange-and-green Fresh Direct shopping bags; a broom; some pet-size water bowls; a pair of hockey sticks; and various bread knives. She has told me that she comes from Poland and now lives in her car, which is parked nearby. Her conversation can devolve into a kind of radio-static recitation of terrible things that happened in Poland in the previous century.”
When I first moved here, I was struck by how many people I was meeting that had spun out from something traumatic elsewhere. NYC is a great place to disappear when you need to. On an optimistic note, a number of people I met like this eventually dealt with their issues, got it out of their systems, and returned home. This is a transient place, and it can be unexpectedly healing if you let it.