From Empty Skies to Marathon Madness: A NYC Day with Eli and Carlos

Last week's post about The Art Institute of Chicago made me recall my fall 2023 trip to New York City and The Metropolitan Museum of Art, so I wanted to write about that experience this week.

The New York City skyline wakes beneath a dramatic sky, with One World Trade Center standing tall in the early light.

When my wife's cousin Carlos told us he’d be visiting, Eli and I had already planned a packed trip to New York City. I needed fresh skyline shots for my portfolio and wanted to visit Central Park and The Metropolitan Museum of Art. Thankfully, Carlos was game to tag along, though I’m not sure he knew what kind of day he was signing up for.

We left our hotel in Newark well before sunrise and drove to Liberty State Park. Why start in New Jersey? Because you can’t photograph the NYC skyline from the city itself. The park was nearly empty, which was perfect for uninterrupted shooting. I managed to capture stunning early-morning skyline photos, discovered the historic Central Railroad of New Jersey Terminal, and reflected at the powerful Empty Sky Memorial. The twin walls, engraved with the names of 9/11 victims, brought back vivid memories of where I was that day. I also caught a glimpse of the Statue of Liberty as the rising sun lit its surface, and Ellis Island shimmered in the distance.

An old-school viewer frames a perfect sunrise view of Lower Manhattan’s skyline from Liberty State Park.

Framed by golden sunrise light, our group poses with the Statue of Liberty in the distance—an iconic start to our NYC day.

The Central Railroad of New Jersey Terminal glows at dawn, its towering spire and red brick facade echoing the stories of millions who once passed through.

Lower Manhattan’s skyline glows in soft morning light, showcasing modern glass towers and iconic spires at sunrise.

A quiet view of Ellis Island in the foreground with One World Trade Center rising proudly behind the misty Lower Manhattan skyline.

The Empty Sky Memorial in Jersey City honors those lost on 9/11, its polished steel walls reflecting the skyline where the towers once stood.

Meanwhile, Eli and Carlos were catching up, and I enjoyed photographing them near the Hudson Bay. Watching them talk and laugh was a nice contrast to the solitary nature of my work.

Carlos and Eli taking in the stillness of dawn over the Hudson River, as soft pink hues stretch across the sky.

The Statue of Liberty silhouetted in gold, standing watch over New York Harbor as the day begins.

Jersey City’s skyline, anchored by the towering Goldman Sachs building, basks in the early morning light.

After a quick breakfast, we headed into Manhattan via the Holland Tunnel. The toll was steep (yikes), but at least we made the trip before NYC’s new congestion pricing kicked in. We cruised through Chinatown, alive with motion even early in the day, and looped past the Financial District. I had to see Wall Street. What can I say? I'm the type of person who’s refreshing CPI and GDP data at 8:30 a.m.

We crossed the iconic Brooklyn Bridge before heading to Queens to park the car. From there, we took the subway into Manhattan. I wanted the full New York experience, and the subway felt essential. In hindsight, maybe too essential. I wasn’t exactly afraid, but I was carrying a couple thousand dollars worth of camera equipment in my bag and found myself hyper-vigilant of everyone’s movements in the subway car, just in case. I also caught a few things that made me uneasy: loud arguments, some intense stares, a guy intensely clipping his nails like it was his living room, and a lingering smell that felt like it belonged in a back alley—not a transit system (Admittedly, Eli and Carlos handled this situation better than I did, what are you going to do about it though). With everything unfolding in the subway, I couldn't help but wonder how a city as vast and iconic as New York could even begin to repair a system so vital, yet so frayed at the edges.

We eventually made it to Central Park. Walking through Central Park was calming. We strolled past The Pond and over the Gapstow Bridge, where still waters mirrored the fall foliage. Skaters twirled on Wollman Rink, and we meandered along The Mall and Literary Walk, where vendors sold hotdogs, artwork, and everything in between. I should have set a budget for art.

Gapstow Bridge glows against a palette of autumn colors, mirrored perfectly in the still water of The Pond.

Wollman Rink comes alive with skaters beneath Midtown’s towering skyline and the iconic Essex House sign.

Skyscrapers tower above Central Park’s tree line, blending the city’s fast pace with moments of calm below.

A fall afternoon at Wollman Rink, where families and friends coast across the ice under a canopy of trees.

A stroll through The Mall in Central Park offers a blend of fall foliage, art vendors, and timeless charm.

The highlight of the park was Bethesda Fountain and Terrace. The Gothic architecture, the relaxed crowd by the fountain, and even boats gliding across the lake made it unforgettable.

So far this day, everything felt calm and almost cinematic as if the city had slowed just for us. Even inside The Met, the quiet galleries gave no hint of what was building outside. But that peace wouldn’t last much longer.

Eli and Carlos at Central Park’s Bethesda Terrace on a sunny fall afternoon, surrounded by curious tourists and lively city energy.

The iconic Bethesda Fountain framed by fall foliage and a vibrant crowd—one of Central Park’s most photogenic landmarks.

A peaceful rowboat glides through Central Park’s lake, surrounded by the golden tones of early autumn.

Eli walking down the iconic stone stairs toward Bethesda Terrace—one of Central Park’s most scenic gathering spots.

A closer look at the Angel of the Waters, standing tall above Bethesda Fountain, surrounded by the shimmer of cascading water.

The park had a moderate crowd in the morning, but by the time we left The Met several hours later, everything had changed. We'd been blissfully unaware of the NYC Marathon preparations—fully absorbed in the art—but upon exiting, we were overwhelmed. Roads were closed, subways restricted, and the park was packed shoulder to shoulder. Spectators waved signs and lifesize cut-outs of runners, shouting from every direction.

I completely shut down. How could I have missed such obvious signs of the marathon throughout the day? One minute I was thinking about lunch, the next I was standing motionless like someone hit pause on my brain. All my carefully laid post-museum plans evaporated into the chaos. Eli and Carlos were trying to get us moving again, but I was just walking around in confused little circles. I could feel their annoyed stares on the back of my head, and honestly, if they weren’t such upstanding people, I think they might have tackled me right there in the middle of Central Park. (Kidding, but seriously)

Fortunately, they both knew the city well and eventually herded me back toward the subway. We returned to the garage and took in a final view from the rooftop: Jackie Robinson Parkway framed by brilliant autumn foliage, with what looked like residential high-rises in Brooklyn peeking over the trees in the distance.

Looking out over the expressway as it winds through Brooklyn’s leafy residential neighborhoods, framed by the urban sprawl of New York’s outer boroughs.

A layered cityscape from Brooklyn, where residential towers stand tall against a hazy silhouette of Manhattan’s skyline in the distance.

A view over Jackie Robinson Parkway, framed by fall foliage and leading into the tunnel beneath eastern Brooklyn neighborhoods.

Despite the chaos, the day was unforgettable. I got the photos I needed, spent time with two great people, and walked away already dreaming of my next trip back to the city. Huge thanks to Eli and Carlos for being good sports throughout it all. Until next time, NYC. 

Standing along the Hudson with One World Trade rising in the distance, this moment felt both peaceful and awe-inspiring.