After the full moon, when the tide is the lowest, you'll find a century of fossils from a gone NY, trails of washed-out rainbow colored bottles, a graffitied shipwreck buried by time. Hundreds of years of history written in the sand.
I discovered the Frick my first week in New York, during a heat wave in August. The galleries were surprisingly empty, with only the occasional visitor strolling through the rooms, gently creaking the floorboards. I stood for a while in front of the Bronzino, a portrait of a boy standing against a background of green drapery, and then sat in the courtyard for a long, cool hour.