A City to Write From
I have been stealing quiet moments with the city over the past week. A quiet moment may be hard to believe in a city that never sleeps, but amongst my daily hustle and bustle, it is almost as if the city some how slows down right around me and I find a cafe or a bench or most likely a Starbucks (213 in Manhattan alone) and in those five to ten minutes, the only noise is sight. In some of these moments this past week, I was able to meet a new love (in the form of food) and create some future moments for friends and family.
The caliber of bagels in New York City is no secret, but my introduction began last Tuesday, during one of my quiet moments and we got to know each other and unfortunately we have been dating consistently since. Don’t get me wrong, my hometown of Buffalo has some of the best food on the planet, (heavy on the bias scale I know), but the bagels of NYC are clouds of yeast delivered by storks from a little bakery I like to call Heaven. Plain bagels, cinnamon raisin bagels, bagel sandwiches, the options are endless and some how make the atmosphere appropriate on a warm Wednesday evening after work. I highly recommend a corner in Midtown at a bagel shop with a sandwich and side of day dreaming.
My Mother is the most thoughtful person I know. From her love of words, poetry and friendships, I have learned the power of a small note, hand written letter or unexpected card. So when a sign for 20 postcards for a $1 caught my eye, I had to invest. I had a wonderful idea to send some notes to the people I love most. I decided to save them the bore of a miss you lots note, because I hope that is painfully obvious, (#friendwithdrawal), but instead I chose quotes that made me think of them or that could relate to their lives.
Most of the time, when I am thinking of scenarios, my imagination goes wild and I create a setting that I am hoping to play out. If we are talking about this situation and possible scenarios, I imagine that the letter is hand delivered by the post office at a perfect moment, whether it be right after a long day, during a burst of laughter or as they step onto their porch with a favorite beverage and after they see a scene from NYC on the front and picture the wind perfectly blowing my hair on a ferry between boroughs, they read the quote, release a smile and place the postcard on the fridge, anchored by their favorite magnet.
But I haven’t really thought about it.
When these post cards do actually arrive, I hope they can not only feel my hope and the endless possibilities I feel from living here, but most importantly a connection with the quote that I wrote in a quiet moment all around the city at a cafe, on a bench or most likely a Starbucks.
Until next time.