I've really started to enjoy my Saturday rhythm. I teach the ACT from 10-1 pm, come home and get smoothies or coffee with Brandon, and then we take a walk through Central Park.
The weather is very slowly starting to get nicer, encouraging fun spring time activities, and we were clearly not the only ones to want to take advantage of the weather. Central Park was beautiful, crisp, and fresh. Since I've only lived in NYC since January, I've only seen the park as a quiet, snowy patch of wilderness in the center of the city. Memories I have of my runs at the Reservoir are marked my frozen swollen fingers, visible exhaled breath, and burningly cold ears. I hardly see anyone on my runs and often imagine I'm far outside the city due to the silence.
But Saturday was magic; the park was like a bear taking an indulgent, sweet stretch from a long hibernation. Soft, inviting jazz music played as I noticed parents corralling their toddlers; puppies pranced happily on the sidewalks as marathoners-in-training sped by on the roadway; couples nuzzled on park benches or munched on waffles from the nearby food truck. The sun kissed the park, which invited laughing people to bask in the spring-time-glory at the cafe next to the thawed-out lake. There was a soft breeze that caught my hair; the air felt fresh but crisp - a reminder that winter may not be ready to let go of its stronghold in the city. But spring seemed to be winning. Spring was at least winning over me and the rest of the city's residents who enjoyed the park on Saturday.
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