The people on the streets in New York City are forever new and they are from everywhere. They ask you for directions in many languages, assuming you might know, and you give them what you have, gladly, and wish them luck. So many "I (heart) NY" T-shirts. This city sells itself.
I wandered around in a daze that fit snugly with my sleep deprived mind and my sense of what's holy. I was lying on the ground beneath a canopy of trees, watching the light break through. and I took a picture because there aren't enough words to describe it.
Central Park in late August, the lush green season.
We spent very little on the trip, save for the ticket out & back, the bus & train fare and the street vendor food. Took the free ferry out to see the Statue of Liberty and I must say she's quite a bit smaller than this idea I have in my head. But I guess all the monuments are like that. All hype and mostly hollow. I was disappointed.
But the rest of the city was alive and breathing! Suffling, exchanging, repeating. Spitting on the pavement. We found a water fountain and stayed a while to watch the children play (and the mothers watch) and all in the big circle like that around the water- I felt a part of something.
In every subway car, a million stories a day. As an afterthought I began to worry about the cleanliness of this place, because I had not closed my eyes since we arrived (not even to blink it felt like). I was missing precious ticks of time, straining to take it all in-as much as I can get from those hours- that I would pour over later and process for days, months, years I imagine. I have had my first taste of New York city and now I can close my eyes and remember.
All the better to dream of return.