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  • Dear DC, Philly, and NYC:

    I miss you. Suddenly and quite intensely - I miss real cold, snow, and places truly old. I miss rust and grime, noisy streets. Public transport and complaining about it! I miss fast talking and speedy walking, comic cynicism and competitive snark. I miss looking up at water towers on the tops of buildings, fire escapes, and scooting into tiny restaurants hidden in alley sized streets. I miss my country gardens now asleep for the winter. The creaking of the pumpkin pine floorboards and the way the light slants in through the deep window sills in the morning. I miss a million small things impossible to describe - things that one can just take for granted after living 20+ years in the northeast.

    These indescribables and the people I've shared them with are drop, drop, dropping on my forehead tonight like some sort of chinese water torture as the strange, subtropical wind howls outside. I am here in body but not in spirit. Not at all. Not tonight.

    Tonight I am back in my old stone and stuccoed house with a fire lit in the wood stove, my friends and family strewn about the room. Someone will start singing or playing the guitar, or both. The chairs creak and crack as people shift in them, and we're joking about how they've yet to collapse. I will leave the dirty dishes and wine glasses on the table to worry about tomorrow, race up the back staircase and dive onto my bed. I'll crawl under my duvet with the weighty, soft suede-y brown cover, laughing about how cold it's gotten all of a sudden.

    Suddenly and quite intensely - tonight I want to go home.


    (Photo taken by me on the Highline, on a great yet seemingly ordinary Sunday last summer in NYC. If only I knew...)
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