In some ways, I think November light is the best light in Washington Heights, especially in the late afternoon when the western sun lights up the trees and apartment palaces that line the Hudson. On the riverbank, there were just a few more minutes of direct sun.
The George Washington Bridge glowed silver as it rose above the kaleidoscope of leaves. At least one yacht in the region does not appear to have been destroyed in the storm. I expected to see more damage along the shoreline.
Much of Upper Manhattan -- or at least the western part -- has the benefit of being built on a plateau or ridge that overlooks the river. We also have a wide shoreline.
The rocks were unfazed by the storm.
The bridge didn't seem too bothered, either, which always amazes me.
I caught the last few seconds of sun as I arrived at the foot of the tower.
The Little Red Lighthouse looked like a toy, albeit a very solid one.
The bridge showed off its majestic engineering.
Not every tree, however, made it out alive.