Philadelphia Street Scenes: transferring the keys to my city

I call Philadelphia "my" city, but it does not, of course, belong to me; nothing is ever for keeps.  But I did grow up visiting my mother's mother and father in southwest Philly, and I went to Penn across the river, and I lived first in the Art Museum area, then on Camac (two different apartments) and next on Gaskill, and I've returned, repeatedly, to take photographs, to collect stories, to teach.  If any city were, for a moment, mine, it would be this one.

But now this place I love will also belong to my son, as he moves into a new job and apartment among the gridded streets.  Last night, perhaps the nicest night Philadelphia has seen all summer long, we took him to a special dinner.  I, being my perhaps overly enthusiastic self, suggested a before-dinner stroll down near Delancey, where much of Dangerous Neighbors takes place, before working back toward Rittenhouse Square and east.

I caught the moment with my tiny Canon.