False Spring

Today it's expected to hit 57 degrees in Central Park. This is not only rare for New York during the winter, but almost unheard of. People today were wearing next to nothing and flip-flops, celebrating this weather related accident. And I do believe it's accidental. I was telling someone recently that the last time North Carolina hit exceptionally high January temperatures, the next week we received 25 inches of snow. Really, we did. I was wearing jeans and a t-shirt and then suddenly, out of nowhere, wearing snowboots. It was crazy.

The difference being that I had no where to go and so it became fun, with sledding and snow angels and all kinds of things. Up here, it just means going to work in high boots and a grumpy mood, under overcast skies. It's depressing to think about. No wonder SAD is so prevalent in the North. I'm even longing for Miami and I don't really care for hot, hot weather that much. But if you make your bed lie in it, and that's what I'm planning to do with this. Lie in it. There's plenty of work to be done, and not much time left until spring comes along with the publication and release of ALL our new books. This coming week we have another gift show and are expecting all kinds of things to pop up in the planning of that.

New York is the city of unexpected pop-ups. Just when you think you have an understanding of how things work, something changes. A store closes or a new restaurant opens and scaffolding blocks yet another route on the way to somewhere. Things are always moving around and changing within the city and that's something that I can appreciate at this age. I'm not sure if I could twenty, twenty-five years from now, but for right now it's just fabulous the way it moves and shifts. Kind of like those holiday stores that open in the mall just for November to January, then sell the rest of their stuff and get out, leaving these bare black holes in their place. New York is like that. It leaves something there, something that tells you it was different at one time or another.

When I was in Enwood a couple of weeks ago, up near the CLoisters, B and I were fascinated at the way things were. There were huge partitions of really old looking wall all over the place, rising high out of the soil. It looked like an old fort and made me wonder how long those rocks had been built on, then stripped down and built upon again. People in cities are constantly changing things, tearing out buildings and building new ones in their place that promise to better everything in everyone's life. In NOrth Carolina I"ve noted the sad change from farmland to suburbs, as people become convinced they need a Kroger at every corner and can't bear to drive in, though they've chosen a place where driving is a requirement. That amazes me most of all. Why would you pick somewhere to live and hten demand they change it to suit you? But developers are happy to do just that, which may be the most depressing thing of all.

At least in New York they're still working with the same land. There isn't anywhere new to go, unless we were to build down into the Hudson river. While that may be a possibility in the not-so-distant future, fortunately we're stuck with what we've got here and it looks like it's not going anywhere anytime soon.