When I looked back over my photos this evening after a round of takeout Chinese food, I was actually a bit disappointed. There were beautiful views of the Empire State Building as I walked uptown. Passing through Union Square, there were interesting people. In Chelsea, there were more striking buildings standing tall against a beautiful blue sky. But those photos were missing an important element.

The smells and sounds of the city are a huge element of the city experience, absent from those photos.

I passed a Jamaican food cart shortly after leaving the Trade Centers. I could smell it from half a block away as I neared the yellow box standing on the edge of the sidewalk. A billowing cloud of smoke rose through the open roof and carried the sweet smell of meat grilled with pungent Carribean spices. I could hear dinner sizzling inside as I passed, the smells overwhelming the street with flavor.

A dozen blocks further north, I paused for a moment to snap a portrait of a group of buildings overlooking a small park. They stood in high contrast to the blue sky of the early evening. As I turned to continue northward, two men in loud conversation caught up to me. For several blocks they walked just a half dozen steps behind me, speaking loudly in a foreign, most likely Arab, tongue before finally turning a corner down some random side street.

The street widened at one point during my walk, an entire lane of traffic closed down for pedestrians. Along the edge of traffic, a black man in raggedy clothes sat on an overturned bucket, an assortment of pots and pans spread out before him. With an amazing comprehension of rhythm, he whacked and beat and smacked his instruments with a set of drumsticks. The entire street full of pedestrians walked in time to his drumming.

Back at the hotel, the sign across the street at Madison Square Garden read AC/DC 8pm. I looked down and checked my watch. 6:30. I smelled marijuana as a group of white suburban thirty year olds with beards and long scruffy wearing black concert T-shirts dragged themselves downtown.

I turned and entered the hotel lobby, my head spinning from the sensory overload as I made my way to the elevator. All the sights and smells and sounds and action of a busy city and all I have to offer is a few digital pictures.