Visiting the roof of New York City's Metropolitan Museum of Art was one of those things I had vaguely heard about doing but had never actually done.
Paul and I had visited the museum several times but had never actually come across the entrance to the roof. But on our last trip there, I made it a point to seek it out.
Turns out, we'd come very close to the special elevator before; I don't know how we missed it. Unfortunately, however, strollers weren't allowed. I'm not sure if that's standard or because of the special paintings on the rooftop, but it meant that Paul and I would have to take turns.
|A fraction of the rooftop exhibit.|
Paul stayed behind as I got on the elevator. But as the doors were closing, I learned it would be the last trip up -- it was starting to rain. My trip would be hurried, but Paul's would be nonexistent.
I didn't spend much time looking at the art. Instead I concentrated on the view. And mostly I deeply regretted not having visited the Met's rooftop on a nice, cool, sunny day to take more iconic photos of the city from one of the city's most iconic buildings. One day.