Tuesday, November 26, 2019

My Love Letter to NYC

I love cities. I always have. I find them energizing and inspiring. New York most of all. Over the years, I have been lucky enough to see quite a few cities around the world, and while they all have their charms, Paris is perfect in the springtime, Madrid magical in winter, and Sydney's summertime can't be beat, there is nothing in the world like New York City in the fall.

It always brings me a thrill, to be part of the ballet of bodies criss-crossing the busy sidewalks, weaving in perfect syncopation. New Yorkers pass each other like swifts, with just the bare minimum and precise amount of room necessary to avoid a crash. It is glorious. I'm attune to the sights, the tourists, the shop windows, a photographer trying to get a shot of her model from across the street, as cars and trucks force her to be momentarily unseen. I adore the sounds as well, people speaking languages I can't identify, birds chirping, horns honking, the slap sound of paper pulled off a stack and thrust at you, and yes, even the scents, leaves underfoot, roasting chestnuts, fancy lady perfume, all mixed in with exhaust fumes. I love it all. I stop thinking, I just breathe and live in the moment. It is a type of meditation in motion.

I had my perfect day in NYC yesterday. My morning was spent at the glorious Sisley Spa at The Carlyle Hotel on 76th near Madison. The combination of old world elegance and modern spa treatments make me so happy. An elevator operator! And their glass of champagne is served in crystal, and it isn't plonk! Heaven. After being steamed and kneaded into feeling like Wagu beef, I took a great walk back to Grand Central. The weather was my absolute favorite, sunny, with just enough of a crisp breeze to make walking a non-sweaty joy. I windowed shopped at every jeweler between The Carlyle and the train. I rescued a pack of lost German tourists, and got them pointed towards the right subway. I ate a dirty water dog with sauerkraut and mustard. I got to be a New Yorker again for a few hours. That's as close as I get to Nirvana.




No comments: