Walking south away from the New York Public Library, the wide-open avenue offers a clear view both uptown and downtown. Sitting between Grand Central Terminal and the Port Authority Bus Terminal these intersections are often busy with commuters at the beginning and end of each day. Walking between midtown and the bus terminal is often easier and quicker than taking either the Times Square Shuttle or the 7 train – especially since neither go all the way to the port authority without an extra block or two of underground walking (which in the summer is hardly worth it).

Lord & Taylor's flagship store begins the drop-off in major retail that's the hallmark of 5th Avenue north of 42nd Street. I find the Sleepy's "On Fifth" store to be a rather funny contrast to the Lord & Taylor signature. It's almost like the mattress chain store is trying to borrow a bit of the fashion department store's cache simply by using gold script.

Park Avenue seems to have an uncanny ability to become a sweltering strip of molten asphalt in the middle of Summer. The double-wide street allows for more sunlight to peek through the buildings, and even though a great number of trees do their best to make up for it, you can still find yourself slowly melting into the relentless traffic.

The alternate side effect of this openness is the fleeting views you can get of many buildings and landmarks. Sure, some will enjoy the long stretch of (unworkable) parkland in the middle of the road, but I get more joy out of momentarily seeing the Chanin, or Empire State Buildings. It's a little bit of a surprise on a street where the expected view is generally just the MetLife building.

A barren wasteland of construction and midtown offices, this block is only steps away from such tourist heavyweights as the Empire State Building and Lord & Taylor. Open up the radius a bit more and you're just a few more blocks from the Public Library and Grand Central. The result is a congested and generally unpleasant stretch of asphalt and concrete. There's a good representation of local shops on this block which could be considered a plus, but very few were welcoming or any more pleasant than a God-forsaken Chase Bank or Duane Reade would be.

This biggest benefit this block brings to the table is its architecture. The old buildings, some in better condition than others, each have their own charm, even if it is the charm of deterioration. Off in the distance you can see some more modern examples forcing their way into the skyline. I have no absolute problem with modern buildings – I'm probably more open-minded than most –  but the stark comparison between the craftsmanship of the old and the new is quite telling.

Resting near what could be considered the southernmost boundary midtown, this part of Lexington Avenue seems lacking. Only a few storefronts brighten-up the otherwise dreary sidewalk. Some long-standing construction sheds, a few office buildings and schools make up the other features.

It would be hard to pinpoint a single defining characteristic that these blocks have. No architecture, no retail, no building-type nor any person seems to dominate any of the others here; leaving the street to wallow in mediocrity.

Branching off a busy intersection of Park Avenue which includes the transition from the Park Avenue Tunnel to the Park Avenue Viaduct, this stretch of 40th Street is unassuming and unwelcoming. While there's a certain polish tourists come to expect from the 42nd Street / Grand Central area, it's interesting to see how much the side streets deviate from that image – and it's not surprising either, since hardly any tourists venture away from Park, Lex or 42nd. These neighboring throughways are mostly home to weekday lunch spots, business services and other local joints.

The massive building on the north western side of the street, 285 Madison, has a tremendous collection of miniature sculptures surrounding each of its windows and entrances. The ones closer to the ground have been mostly worn away over the years, but gazing upward, you can see incredible detail in the ones that have been protected by their fortuitous perch. Surrounding the rest of the intersection are a bevy of midtown lunch options. The newest member of this neighborhood, 4Foods has an interesting "modern" approach in-which they leverage social media, technology and their website to allow patrons to create and promote their own custom burgers. A series of seats with iPads near the front entrance should give you some idea of how tech-happy this place is.

A collection of throw-away images I would take of the sidewalk to visually differentiate all the streets I would shoot at one time.

Over the previous 24 months I spent nearly every weekend walking around New York, camera in-hand, with the intention of documenting parts of the city I had never been to. The result has been this daily photo project; a project which has taken over my life in some manner nearly everyday since then.  Though many people assume I was out to walk the entire grid, or to shoot photos of every street, I never had that endgame in mind. No, it was far simpler: I just never wanted to move away from New York and feel like I wasted my time here. I also wanted to rid myself of the frustration of hearing about all these great neighborhoods and sights, though never taking the initiative to see them. And finally I wanted to share these experiences through photos. I've always loved the small things that people either don't see or don't even bother to notice. The ephemeral elements of everyday life which change so subtly over the decades, so that by the time we feel nostalgic for them, they've already been lost. So those were my goals.

In these two years I have managed to shoot over 24,000 photos of 515 blocks over the course of 90 weekends. All impressive numbers, if I do say so myself. But with thousands of blocks in Manhattan alone, it was obvious I was never going to achieve that mythical goal of photographing every street. I'm just one person, with one camera, traveling on-foot. It was just never going to happen. Even today, looking at my map of documented streets, it's amazing I've made it this far, but looking closer you can see how much more there is to do.

So it's with all that in mind that I've decided to stop posting new blocks on a daily basis.

NYC Grid will not be going away. But with the cold weather and shorter days upon us, I'd like to take the 10-or-so hours per week that I dedicate to this site and refocus them on other projects. The blog is not dead; far from it. I'll be keeping these photos and posts online, and may still contribute new ones from time to time. But the self-imposed deadlines related to posting a new block every weekday have become prohibitive.

I'd like to thank every person that ever visited the site. It's incredibly humbling to have people be even remotely interested in something you're passionate about. The thrill that, every week, thousands of people were reading my clumsily-written thoughts and looking at my hastily-shot photos has never worn off. The support and kind words I've received from countless individuals from all over the city, country and world are invaluable to me. I treasure every comment, every email and every reader. If you've been a daily visitor I encourage you to subscribe to the NYC Grid and NYC Grid Snippets RSS feeds to stay current with any sporadic updates I may post.

Previously: 260 Blocks Later (1 year anniversary)

A popular entrance to Greenwich Village, West 3rd Street has a rather boring mixture of tourist traps and old village stand-bys. Since it ends abruptly at 6th Avenue (and I don't believe the fine people at the IFC Film Center would appreciate being driven through, though you're welcome to check), West 3rd is just one of many crosstown routes which die at the start of the West Village.

The heart of this area is the West 4th Street subway station which acts as a major hub between 7 of the IND lines. There's only two exits for this huge station, and oddly enough neither are actually on West 4th Street, but rather Waverly Place and West 3rd Street. As a result you get a lot of people exiting down here by the basketball courts and making their way to the interior of the neighborhood by way of West 3rd.

Along the street a series of nightclubs do their best to lure you in with promises of no cover, or low minimums, though that's rarely the deal once you get inside. Old newsstands, record stores, and magazine shops have somehow managed to survive over the years despite the inroads being made by the likes of McDonald's and Ace Hardware. For me one of the more charming things is the Minetta Garage (named for the street to the south which it connects to) which has signage and lighting which is just vintage enough to not be kitschy.

If you can come down here at the right time of day, you wont encounter too much trouble in terms of crowds. However if you find yourself down here on a weekend after 5 o'clock, I wish you the best of luck because many a well-intentioned visitor has been lost to the crowds of drunken pizza customers.

Walking along an empty steel fence, which from satellite photos seems to hold a large parking lot, this street is rather plain. The beginning of the block has a nice building with some ornate detailing, but it appears to be mostly-forgotten and un-loved.

The remainder of the south side of the street is home to a park, which seems as forgotten by the Parks Department as the rest of the street is to the general public. Imaginatively-named "Bridge Park 2", I'm left wondering where Bridge Park 1 is and weather or not it has an actual number assigned to it, or if that's only for these sequel parks. As for the space itself, it's really just a large open area with a few basketball hoops thrown up so you have some hint of activity. 

This is the type of street I hope every person who visits New York gets to walk down at least once. Sure, there isn't anything of particular note, but to me it's more genuine than most any block you're able to find in midtown. The rows of mismatched apartments with their stoops eating into the already-narrow sidewalk, the small stores which sit close to the avenues, the churches and schools which hide in plain sight as you thoughtlessly walk by. It's a microcosm in just a few hundred feet, and it's what this city used to be filled with.

Now days it's harder to find simple block like this. I generally don't lament the new construction too much, but these plain-jane streets are so charming. They offer little-more than a place to live and a way to get from one avenue to the next…beyond that they're not a destination by any means. It's what you often see when you turn on Sesame Street or any other program which presents a semi-idealized version of urban life. 

Just one of many streets to dip below an overpass in this neighborhood, Front Street is very deceptively-named as it doesn't appear to be on the front of anything. Straddling between DUMBO and Vinegar Hill,  the Manhattan Bridge represents a hard line between the two neighborhoods. Directly under the bridge you'll find a lone building for the DOT's Iron Shop, which seems incredibly fitting in that location.

There's no shortage of both old and new buildings around here. Likewise, there's no shortage cobblestones which have been lazily replaced and covered by other paving methods over the years. The result is a street that feels like a quilt of different materials that all must come together to offer a suitable driving surface for the 3 cars an hour which cross under here.