Crisp air whooshing through vibrant leaves, raking sunlight picking out hilltops and shadowed rambling valleys.  

[Especially after a hectic week,] nothing beats a long walk on a perfectly unplanned fall afternoon when no other commitments alter the open-ended freedom and leisurely pace of the day--especially when something particularly charming catches your eye.  For me this Sunday, it was a scattering of acorns nestled along a stone wall.  Spotting those beautiful pre- oak trees felt like discovering a secret treasure hunt that nobody else knew about.


Thunderstorm Couture

While I nursed a cup of black coffee on the Upper West Side of Manhattan on a gray day, the sky suddenly opened and torrents of rain pummeled the pavement.  A woman in her early 70s who had been sitting opposite me got up to leave.  She dashed out of the cafe, a blur of magenta sweater and permed peroxide curls.  

A moment later, the same woman rushed past in the in the opposite direction, a bright yellow plastic bag from the supermarket next door cocooning her hair as an ill-fitting rain cap and another tied around her neck, a crinkly cape fit for a not-so-powerful superhero fluttering behind her as she hurried on her way uptown.

The Tiniest Wave Goodbye

At a neighbor's house, I hunted down a lint roller to give my sweater a once-over before dashing out the door to dinner downtown.

I picked up the handle and, dangling from the sticky roll of lint tape, was one singular, tiny, black mitten, orphaned from its winter apparel family. 

"Farewell, friend."

Windy Day

Look up, see how quickly the clouds are moving.  It must be really windy up there too.

Or is it the buildings that are moving?  Yes, the entire city is drifting sideways and to get where we need to go, we can just jump up, over the buildings and they will pass below us.

Good thing we're wearing good jumping shoes.

(Wouldn't it be even better if our legs were made of springs?

Or if our shoes were trampolines?

Or if we could leapfrog up in the air, one over the next?)