53rd. and 9th.

After leaving the restaurant, we found ourselves in the path of a traffic diverting procession as it circled the block. A swarm of diminutive, brown skinned faithful (I would be a GIANT in Central America) clustered alongside purple robed acolytes at their devotions, rhythmically stepping along with the swaying progress. The tiny men hefted a kind of flower bedecked Catholic palanquin, bearing the gold framed image of the Virgin of Something or Other, plaques in Spanish describing her miracles, and towering bee hive mounds of red roses. A heady fog of thick sweetness issued from the trailing incensers. WE never had anything so wonderful at Christ Episcopal.