Water, Water Everywhere

By Ellie Levin

When I think of summer I dream of boating and swimming and lazy days in Maine sitting on a terrace gazing at the sound at Fireside, Falmouth, with so many sailboats looking like white birds resting; I also think of the artificial lake, glassy calm, blue-grey, or mud colored other days, fed by cold springs, in Forestburgh, New York. This summer I added the canals of Amsterdam and the Amstel River. My photographs are of the water of the Amstel in its many moods. In one image it is green and rippled on one side of trays of floating gardens. And on the other side, a delicate blue, made of many colors like an impressionist painting. Continue reading

Good Friday

By Ellie Levin

The train was traveling high above a huge expanse of water when I looked up from my magazine.  I had boarded the ‘B’ train on Good Friday evening, headed, I hoped, to Noho on the eastside of lower Manhattan to see a play called “Easter” by Augustus Strindberg to which I had been invited by Carol Carter, a friend and neighbor, who was in the cast. I had a seat, but the train was very crowded and slow, so I calmly pulled out a magazine, figuring I had plenty of time, as I had two hours before curtain. Then, time got away from me, so that when I looked up, I saw that I was nowhere I had ever been before. Continue reading

Going Steady

by Nancy Orans Eder
Alan is a heavy set man in his early 70s who most likely walks unnoticed on the streets of New York. Nothing about his appearance glaringly draws attention or provides distinctive identification as he enters a room.  A touch of sadness casts a shadow over his paunch. Alan carries the gravity of the butler of Downton Abbey with a kindness and gentleness that is endearing.