Sunday

After a week of clouds and heaviness, stepping outside this morning felt like heaven. Still cold, but the clean, snapping kind of cold that comes with the lingering breath of winter, not the sticky oppressiveness of a damp, 40 degree spring. A wind came through last night, and whisked aside any traces of moisture. Even this morning, we still felt the briskness, heating our cheeks and roughly slapping our chins with bouts of cold. Above our hatted heads, the sky seemed washed clean, taking up more space than allotted. It flew down between buildings and scraps of cloud, piggybacking on the wind, a force of depth as much as temperature. The sun glinted, stinging our eyes with a light as bright and cutting as ice. Even in winter, the sun can wound. Trailing tears of cold and light, we continued on our way, still aware of the vastness of the sky, falling away around our heads. We encountered a busy intersection, and paused. Almost unnoticed, we spiraled up and out of ourselves and flew with the clouds, skimming over previously unnoticed buildings and hidden rooftops. The world, for a moment, distilled, small crystalline images forming and melting quickly as snowflakes. When we touched down again, I looked at you and remembered sitting down here and now to write this, on this particular blustery Sunday, just one in a string of Sundays that connect our weeks. In a year, will you even remember?

Reflections on New York City

The past two days I've been in NYC. It's... different. I don't live there, and I don't think I'd ever want to. It's too big, too crowded, and too dirty, but it is fun. There's just so much to do. That, I think, is the main charm of New York City. There's something for everyone. It's a giant melting pot and collision of cultures. You can walk down any random street and see at least three stores advertising items in different languages, and hear said languages being spoken. It's hard not to follow your nose when you pass a restaurant with delicious smells emanating through the door. In the press of people on the street you're sure to see someone wearing a weird, wacky, tacky, or just plain cool item of clothing. (For the record, I saw a TON of Doc Martens!) Stores overflow with amazing merchandise, and if you go to the right places, you'll be sure to find something unique.

On the other hand, NYC is dirty, plain and simple. For whatever reason, it seems like everyone smokes. It's impossible to move more than a few feet without getting a whiff of cigarette smoke. Nasty stuff, to say the least. The city is also incredibly crowded, and crowds create trash, cigarette stubs, and seemingly mountainous piles of gum on the sidewalks. Grime is everywhere. Then again, New York is an old city, and the older things become, the dirtier they seem.

One thing that bothers me about NYC every time I go there is the lack of natural light. In some neighborhoods, no matter how sunny it is, there seems to be a general cessation of light, which intrigues me. It's probably because the buildings are so tall, but I have a theory that it's actually the lack of trees. Even in a forest when the sun is shining, the light is alive, if muted. In New York, the sunlight seems almost dead. In Times Square at night, with the neon and huge lights cranked up, it seems almost like day. The key word here is "almost"- it's not the real thing. Real light needs to be living, and to be reflected off of living things. Without light, life can't really exist. New York is definitely a living city, but the light lives in a different way than the light where I live. It's a change, certainly.