I Heart New York Redux

One of the pleasures of this city is its diversity and the self-expression of its endlessly inventive citizens. There are those whose attire is designed for simple survival at this time of year when spring is still a flirt and winter won’t completely go away. There are others who ignore the weather and wear what feels right for the. On any day one might see people in boots and full-length wool coats scurrying along the sidewalks, brushing against people in sandals and shorts, maybe topped by at least a lightweight jacket.

A joy of my hospital visits this past week were the fantastic hose worn by one of the researchers working on my friend’s floor. These stockings were works of art, an impressionist’s view of legs on which oranges, blues, greens and reds swirled. I was so moved by their unique statement that I had to ask the wearer about their origin. She had, she said, purchased them in Barcelona and regretted that she bought only one pair. They obviously gave her as much joy to wear as they provided those of us who saw her that day.

One of my favorite restaurants in New York is Rosa Mexicano. I had a wonderful lunch today with friends at the Lincoln Center location where we were seated by a window with a close-up view of a newly leafed-out tree. The conversation was fun, the food was delicious and the frozen pomegranate margaritas were sublime. I’m exhilarated anew by the bond that has grown so quickly with these women, friends of my friend. I am still getting to know them, but already clear that I want to know them always.

Then I had my first experience on the cross-town bus, a quick trip from the restaurant to the hospital. I loved the inclusiveness of the riding population. People of all ages and walks of life were crowded together in a shared need to move around the city. There seemed to be a loose camaraderie among us and an acceptance of one another for this brief time together. Some who must be regulars acknowledged one another; others of us kept more to ourselves, but without shutting out the others the way we often do on plane rides.

The sounds of the city continue to amaze me. As I write this with windows open to the deliciously cool night air, I hear the occasional siren on 8th Avenue amid the continuous hum of traffic all around. I can’t say I miss the nearby construction sounds that are part of the daytime symphony in the neighborhood. There are two buildings going up a block or so away and other projects closer by. Crews begin their drilling, banging and clanging before 8 weekday mornings. Fortunately, I’m usually up well before they begin or that could be a rude awakening!

I’m taking some photos with my phone, but have been too technologically lazy to upload them to my laptop to add to the blog. “Maybe later,” I think each night. Then I find myself doing something else or just flopping down to read or watch TV or blog rather than play with wires and geeky stuff.

For those who read this, you have my apologies for rambling. Writing is the best therapy for me and, particularly when I am away from home, it is more than communication, it is companionship. When I think that those who know me are reading this and, I hope, sharing a bit of my experience as they read, it is comforting. I can only hope it brings a bit of pleasure on your screen as well.