Inside a weeping birch at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. You have to push aside the drooping branches and go inside their circle to see this. Everything carved on it is either single initials or name-heart-name.
Pacifico is a restaurant on Pacific St. It's tiny, on the back of another building and you wouldn't know it was there unless you were looking for it. But it's also delicious.
In the back of a pavilion on the northern edge of Prospect Park there is a grand piano. There for anyone to play, it has a few pieces of sheet music but you're free to bring or improvise your own. It's a public service project - there are several pianos scattered throughout the City.
When you walk, you look at the sidewalk 3 feet in front of you. And normally what you see is a dirty, old, stained, cracking slab of concrete. But a pottery studio on Union St has embedded chunks of pretty glass in the sidewalk for a several block radius around their shop.
Riding the train one day, I looked down to see a woman knitting. The needles, her yarn and her hands were beautiful - I couldn't resist snapping a shot.
Sir Winston Churchill Square, which I never would have found had I not accidentally turned a corner 10 feet too soon on my way to work one morning. It's small, as most of their parks are, but surprisingly secluded for being off 6th Ave in the middle of Manhattan.
And finally, a rooftop retreat, visible only from the top few floors of one nearby office building. There are gems of beauty every where, and in every situation - we just have to look.