new york in the spring
there’s just something about the big apple that keeps me coming back year after year. it truly is lovely in the spring. maybe it’s an inert restlessness deep within that yearns to be around the hustle and bustle. maybe it’s propensity for change, and here, culture and diversity converge on a tiny island covered with tall buildings rather than palm trees. at home, everyone looks just like me — a pasty, white guy in jeans & flip flops. here, the scenery has flipped — i’m the minority on a subway car. and there’s something comforting about that, if just for the few days i’m here.
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