acclimation.

you forget. you go away for a little while and amnesia (or something like it) creeps in.

and then you get back.

and there's that hill leading up to the subway. and the steps--steps, everywhere! and you walk from here to there and from there to here and on and on (all with a heavy bag {bags}). and the heavy doors--the pulling and the pushing.

and suddenly you remember.

and suddenly the body feels the strain.

and a type of exhaustion takes hold, unique to this city.

but the exhaustion will pass.

and i will be back in fighting form in no time.

i had forgotten how the whole of the city conspires to whip one into shape.

but my blistered feet and strained calves, well they certainly remember now.

returning. coming home.

the city in autumn is equal parts explosion and bouquet.

it is profusion of light.

it is the soft, gray glow of saturday evenings. autumn creeping in. playing a taunting, haunting game of hide-and-seek.

it is the young jewish boys. celebrating the high holiday. dressed in fine, black suits, slightly too big. each one holding the door open for an elder. an act of reverence and honor. of youth bowing before tradition and history and all that is to come.

it is the ichabod-crane-like-trees buttressing the north side of the museum of natural history. tall and thin. bare, white trunks. high, reaching arms. silent screams to the sky.

it is the grid of streets. crossword puzzles for the feet.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

i fell in love with the city my first night back.

i saw it for its parts. and its whole. i saw it with the expanse of my back. and i saw with the crook of my elbow. i saw it with my feet and my fingers and my nose and the strands of hair just around my face.

i felt the city. and there on the blackened streets, beneath the thinning trees i offered thanks for both the odyssey and the return home.

a nyc {for tryon} picnic.

oh how i love fort tryon park!

{home of the beloved new leaf cafe}

oh how words fail to extol its many virtues!

it is my favorite place in all of new york. the air is cool and fresh {reminiscent of my grandparent's home in briarcliff}.

and the flowers are in bloom now. the smell! oh, the smell! so if you're in the city get on the nearest A train and get off at 190th. take the elevator up and find yourself in the sweetest little subway station that catapults you into forest. yes, that's right. i said catapult. and forest.

so when deciding where to celebrate cinco de mayo, it was a no-brainer. we gathered blankets, chips and guacamole, hummus, bread and goat cheese.

insta-picnic!

happy fifth, indeed!