I think I’m ready.
I’m ready for these dragging winter days to morph into puddle-filled, no-jacket afternoons.
I’m ready to taste the crunch of the my first spring radish.
I’m ready for flowers to bloom, to feel grass beneath my feet.
I’m ready to be on the water, in the water, near the water.
I’m ready to eat endless ice cream.
I’m ready to feel the wind in my face during a long springtime bikeride.
I’m ready to feel the sun on my back, to wear shades, and sandals.
These sentiments are not new. In fact, they are well versed in this city as we keep getting blasted with 60 degree days followed by another entire week in the 20s.
But I’m not here to be just the next person complaining about the weather. I’m narrating a stirring in my bones, perhaps stemming from the fact that my remaining days in NYC are suddenly numbered.
I’m ready to fully cease each moment I have left in this crazy, beautiful place.
Spring may be a couple weeks away yet, but that makes my quest even more appealing. Even in the moments this city feels most overwhelming, somber, and cold, I know there’s an ample amount of beauty, warmth and friendliness– one must simply look hard enough.