The ground beneath our feet...

Long Island Iced Tea.
It seems like only 12,568 years ago since the Wisconsin Glacier retreated from New York City, leaving behind its scattered deposits of glacial till (a mix of fine silt, sand, gravel, and large boulders).
This Pleistocene Era debris pile has a name by the way...The Harbor Hill Moraine. The highest elevation it reaches in Brooklyn, a vista some 220 feet above sea level, is right up the slope from us at Battle Hill, in Green-Wood Cemetery's northeast corner, just above Seventh Avenue and 20th Street.

Glacial ice tends to sweep up everything in its path regardless of size or weight. Unlike a box of Lucky Charms, lightly shaking glacier till in a constant, controlled way, will not bring all the magically delicious marshmellow hearts, moons, stars, and clovers to the surface. I am looking forward to seeing if any large, fruity flavored boulders (glacial erratics) will be unearthed during the next stage of excavation.

Faraday Waves.
So last week, with constant vertical oscillations from the Armory Plaza construction, that "corn starch and water feeling" came over me, again. Even the slightest puff of air blowing against my skull opened up a small hole in my head that remained for some time, until the vibrations (f=120Hz a=15g) finally disappeared. So now, even though my perturbed brain is mostly a liquid-like substance, the penetrations are not closing at all until after 6pm each weekday.