March 1, 2021 - From our archives, from January 3, 2020.

This morning I walked from Fiftieth Street down to Sixth Avenue and Spring; the city was recovering from a New Year’s hangover. I needed to move; I needed to feel the air in my lungs. I walked by B&H at Thirty-fourth and Ninth, though just before crossing Thirty-fourth I looked west, where the landscape drops down toward the Hudson; and in the great distance and amongst the fog and clouds of the morning, the end of the street looked like the end of the world.