Late summer, 1968. I remember quite vividly a few moments from my first trip to New York, when I was on the bridge and first saw Manhattan, when I saw the skyscrapers. It was like an incredible dream. Only a small child then, but deep down I knew I would one day move here. Nowadays, that view tells me I am almost home; however, a view from the bridges does not intrigue me nearly as much as a view of the bridges. Daily, I discover beautiful slivers while moving around the boroughs. Here is a little slice of Brooklyn.