Yesterday the temperature rose above forty degrees, and like a sea of statues coming alive, the city stretched its limbs and rediscovered itself.
My friend Rudy and I celebrated this accordingly, first taking in giant slabs of pecan pie at Four and Twenty Blackbirds, and then wandering through Carroll Gardens until dusk fell.
I always think it’s rather remarkable how a certain slant of sunlight can bathe the world in color, and yet until the weather begs you to notice, you can walk right on by. There has got to be some metaphor for life buried within this lesson, but as it is early on a Sunday and I’ve yet to have my coffee, I will let you choose one for me.
Happy Sunday, everyone.
Decaf Doesn't Count 