Day is done. It was a good one. Now for some nightlife. Back through Washington Park...heading towards Soho and dinner. Looks like doggie day care is getting out.
The sun is starting to set. Color is still in the trees and people are slowing down and relaxing. There is a nice feeling in this park. A place to find some peace in a city full of noise.
It's darker now. People heading home. Bike rentals everywhere. Shopping bags slung over shoulders. Early evening. The crossroads at the end of the park.
I turn around for one more look. The park is busier but still holds a sense of restfulness. Soon, it will be very busy. Groups gather and speak their minds. The resting folks head out.
For a November night, it was cold but quite lovely. As we walked, I found it so difficult to comprehend the violence this city sometimes experiences. All the people we met were lovely.
When walking, it is nice to just look at all the shops and little places to eat. The Malt House looked like a nice place to check out for an early dinner.
A good choice. It was warm and cozy with a fire going. Jim is a beer man and he gave this place his approval. Food was pub style, which we like and the best part, interesting people.
Who can refuse a bokeh Christmas tree...double bonus, it was reflected in the window. My wine was so comforting and warm, the music loud and fun. I loved how festive and alive it all was.
Ah, young love. How perfect. I smiled at this. At the memories, it stirred in me. Sneaking that quick kiss when you think no one is watching. Actually, you don't even care if someone is watching or snapping. The little Fuji doing it's job....quietly.
Feeling full of both food and drink. Feeling grateful for not only making it to the city again but to a great book event, we walk back to the hotel. Soho is beautiful and feels safe and the colors are vibrant, especially at night. Stars in the sky, snuggled in winter coats, we walk home, him and I.
Life has a way of opening us up if we can just let ourselves go. It isn't easy to come to a place like New York after having managed agoraphobia for so long. It has taken me years to get here. Baby steps. Each time I had a success, I built on that and then kept moving. New York City is now a favorite of mine. Only for three days at a time, but in those three days, I let myself feel the city and the city is good. It reminds me of all that is still out there for me to conquer... New York at night, now that's a Big Deal.
All photos in this post were taken with the Fuji XT-2 with the Fuji 35 f2.2 lens
““The wanderer in Manhattan must go forth with a certain innocence, because New York is best seen with innocent eyes. It doesn’t matter if you are younger or old. Reading our rich history makes the experience more layered, but it is not a substitute for walking the streets themselves. For old-timer or newcomer, it is essential to absorb the city as it is now in order to shape your own nostalgias.
That’s why I always urge the newcomer to surrender to the city’s magic. Forget the irritations and the occasional rudeness; they bother New Yorkers too. Instead, go down to the North River and the benches that run along the west side of Battery Park City. Watch the tides or the blocks of ice in winter; they have existed since the time when the island was empty of man. Gaze at the boats. Look across the water at the Statue of Liberty or Ellis Island, the place to which so many of the New York tribe came in order to truly live. Learn the tale of our tribe, because it’s your tribe too, no matter where you were born. Listen to its music and its legends. Gaze at its ruins and monuments. Walk its sidewalks and run fingers upon the stone and bricks and steel of our right-angled streets. Breathe the air of the river breeze.”
― Pete Hamill, Downtown: My Manhattan”
““Everything in New York is a photograph. All the things that are supposed to be dirty or rough or unrefined are the most beautiful things. Garbage cans at the ends of alleyways look like they’ve been up all night talking with each other. Doorways with peeling paint look like the wise lines around an old feller’s eyes. I stop and stare but can’t stay because men always think I’m selling something. Or worse, giving something away. I wish I could be invisible. Or at least I wish I didn’t look like someone they want to look at. They stop being part of the picture, they get up from their chess game and come out of the frame at me, blocking my view.”
― Ann-Marie MacDonald, Fall on Your Knees”
