The East River Park, that is. It's in Zone A, as is the FDR drive, which runs about 250 feet from my apartment building.
But I'm a dumb cluck, like so many of my fellow human beings, so I ignored the sign and went into the park anyway. The rain and the wind were at a lull at the time, plus the dog likes his routine.
Things of note:
It was just past high tide, and the water was very high, and running very fast; faster, I think, than I've ever seen it. It's not going to take much to push it over the low points in the city's seawalls at tomorrow morning's high tide, after a night of heavy rain and wind.
It's quiet out there. No subway roaring over the Williamsburg Bridge overhead, no ferries on the water, no buses creaking along the streets. I heard, then saw, one lone truck cross the bridge; otherwise, just a handful of cars.
A bunch of them were police cars, though. With lights flashing, in a hurry to get someplace. Wonder what's up.
The construction workers involved in the unending project to renovate the East River Park have loaded a bunch of extra equipment onto Uncle Leo, and parked him four feet or so away from the sea wall. Somehow, this doesn't seem adequate. But I have to assume they know what they're doing.
Also: the gulls. I noticed during the big snowstorms last winter that the gulls would come in astonishing numbers to take refuge in the East River Park ballfields. This evening, they are circling, circling, low over the water.
The wind picked up, and the rain resumed, and I was glad to be able to go home and get dry.