Built between 1861 and 1881, the Old New York County Courthouse (a.k.a. Tweed Courthouse) represents one of Boss Tweed's most notorious schemes to embezzle money from the city's coffers for himself and his Tammany Hall confederates. All the costs of construction were greatly inflated, with the excess going directly into the pockets of the so-called "Tweed Ring". A particularly egregious example of this graft: the plasterer, a Tammany crony, did two days' worth of work and was paid $133,187 — somewhere around 2.3 million of today's dollars! Tweed was eventually convicted of forgery and larceny in 1873 after being tried, fittingly, in an unfinished courtroom in this very building.

Judged on its own merits, the courthouse is a lavish work of artistry and craftsmanship (photos here), but it was long reviled because of its negative associations with greed and corruption. The NY Times reports:

By [the time it opened], the courthouse had become a looming symbol of public betrayal.

"The whole atmosphere is corrupt," said George C. Barrett, a reformer from that time. "You look up at its ceilings and find gaudy decorations; you wonder which is the greatest, the vulgarity or the corruptness of the place."

Such visceral reactions blinded people to the building's merits, according to several historians and architects. They say the building is a striking 19th-century structure, with marble walls, a Corinthian portico and a beautiful skylight rotunda.

The courthouse (which has not actually been used as a courthouse since 1961, when it became a municipal office building) languished for much of the 20th century, falling into disrepair (perfectly captured in this photo). Its front staircase was chopped off to make way for a street widening and vines began to overtake the portico. A painstaking (and extremely expensive...) renovation completed in 2001 brought the place back to life, however, restoring its opulence and grandeur (and even its staircase).

There were plans for the Museum of the City of New York to move in after things were fixed up, but Mayor Bloomberg decided instead to relocate the Department of Education's headquarters to the courthouse instead. And just this year, a small public school opened on the premises; it will be housed here until 2015, when its own building is ready. In the meantime, this is going to be the world's snazziest kindergarten.

By the way, the city offers free tours of Tweed Courthouse! You can sign up here.

By leaving the deceptive permanence of our homes, we let go of the first and most damaging illusion that blocks our inner eye from seeing God's presence. This is the illusion that material security protects our vulnerability. But nothing material is eternal; the feeling of security and stability that comes from possessions is transient. The only enduring possession that any of us have is our essence.

           — Rebbetzin Tziporah Heller, "The Sukkah Experience"

I was surprised to find this sukkah-like structure being erected by non-Hasidic laborers outside a Hasidic synagogue so far in advance of the High Holidays. One man I spoke with said it is going to house overflow seating for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, and then be fully sukkah-fied for Sukkot. I was not aware of this, but apparently it is not uncommon for people to build their sukkot (that's the plural of "sukkah") before Yom Kippur, saving only the s'chach to add afterward.

Synagogues often build (or have others build for them) large sukkot for their congregations (I wonder what the Garfield Temple will do this year), but many individual families will construct their own modest sukkah at home as well. Interestingly, you can often identify an apartment building constructed for observant Jews by the layout of its balconies, which, as we've seen, will be staggered to provide each family's sukkah a clear view of the sky.

Also: Waste Side Story!

Believe it or not, these little alien pods are apparently good for the eatin'. I didn't know this at the time, so I can't offer any personal opinions, although I don't think this batch was ripe yet, anyway.

The jellyfish'll getcha if the octopus don't first.

to tell me this garden was founded before March 26, 1997.

Despite all appearances, this massive boarded-up, razor-wired church still has a heartbeat: services take place in a ground-floor chapel, and there are several ministries and community service programs active at the parish. You can find a history of the structure, as well as photos of its interior, here.

This World War I memorial stands inside Bushwick's Freedom Triangle.

This is your typical Bicentennial-era fire hydrant (there's been no shortage of patriotic hydrants during my recent travels in Staten Island). You can still make out a red, white, and blue color scheme, but the paint is heavily faded and chipped. Quite a difference from the vibrant specimen we saw last week!

for your kid to get eaten by an ogre.

lies the Sweet Brook Bluebelt (which you can see from the air here).

What is a Bluebelt, you ask?

The Staten Island Bluebelt is an award winning, ecologically sound and cost-effective storm water management for approximately one third of Staten Island’s land area. The program preserves natural drainage corridors, called Bluebelts, including streams, ponds, and other wetland areas. Preservation of these wetland systems allows them to perform their functions of conveying, storing, and filtering storm water. In addition, the Bluebelts provide important community open spaces and diverse wildlife habitats. The Bluebelt program saves tens of millions of dollars in infrastructure costs when compared to providing conventional storm sewers for the same land area. This program demonstrates how wetland preservation can be economically prudent and environmentally responsible.

reminds me of Winnie the Pooh.

This old-timer dates back to the days when NYC color-coded its street signs by borough.

Sporting a now-rare Statue of Liberty license plate. (According the windshield sticker, the registration expired in 2002 — the year these plates were finally phased out.)

Poison ivy makes the rules in this part of town, and it don't take kindly to DOT interlopers.

From a distance, I figured this version of The Starry Night was just a mass-produced mailbox cover, but it's actually hand-painted onto the mailbox!

Come on inside, little birdies.

when you're driving an RV, Mike.

among other greens in this Riverdale garden

Elephant ear

Lurking in the woods past 254th Street's dead end

and he's still as excited as ever.

Another shot of the cosmos

* I have to admit: I've used this (brilliant) joke before.

The street signs gain some character and lose some legibility as you leave NYC.

The highest street number on the Manhattan-Bronx grid

This is the Flag of Heroes, honoring the first responders who lost their lives on 9/11. It was designed by the same guy as the Flag of Honor, which bears the names of all 9/11 victims and is used to create the NYC 9/11 Memorial Field installations.

High Ridge House is a "Christian Science Sanctuary for Healing and Renewal".

on the grounds of the John Cardinal O'Connor Clergy Residence for retired priests

A land of many quaint homes and one gigantic Russian fortress

Photographer: Do you want to move that jug filled with coins out of the way before I take the photo?

Carlos: No.

A personal note from the artist himself!

Located by the Bruckner Expressway, just west of this

For sale: $25,000 or best offer.

I have no information on the status of the roofmobile.

There are four gas cans for sale on the other side of the tree, if you're in the market.

Flying the flag at half-mast on the 11th anniversary

(That's the Alphabet City tornado school in the background.)