Take a Guess at Where I am Standing.

I look up from my food stand burrito to see bright yellow river taxis, jet skiers playing in the wake of the brighter orange Staten Island ferry, crazy kayakers trailing behind them, at least one helicopter at any given time, seagulls, sail boats, and even a 19th century slow moving sloop.  Behind the commotion, stand the tall wooden masts of the Old Seaport dwarfed by both the metal towers behind it and the 130-yr-old stone bridge pillars beside it.  In front of the commotion, dog walkers and baby strollers pass, tourists snap souvenir shots and sparrows bicker in my shadow waiting for fallen rice.

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