5 posts tagged “autumn”

Yesterday was the most beautiful day.  It was warm and sunny and just absolutely gorgeous.  Yes, I should have stayed in and worked on my NaNoWriMo, but how could I be expected to stay inside on the first warm day we've had in weeks?!  So John and I headed uptown to Central Park to enjoy the afternoon.  After fighting off bands of bicycle taxi drivers - one of whom asked us if we wanted to buy a used car when we declined a tour of the park - we roamed the paths, taking pictures along the way.  The park was full of people; everyone seemed to have the same idea as us.

I can't get over how beautiful New York is in the fall.  It's spectacular.  Lately I've had no remorse in moving here, and with plans in the works to abandon Avenue C for the Upper West Side come spring, I'm downright thrilled to be living in New York. 

Some pictures from our walk yesterday:

I was always more in love with the idea of New York than New York itself.

I imagined something quite different than what I have been living in for the past five months. I watched reruns of Sex and the City and Friends and thought we'd be living in a two bedroom in Greenwich Village or in a cozy brownstone on the Upper East Side. Not a cave on Avenue C. This is what happens when you only visit a city twice before you actually move there and rely on sitcoms to paint an accurate picture of New York. Perhaps I should have spent more time in the city before relocating my entire life, but there wasn't time or money. John and I made a decision, closed our eyes and jumped...

...And I hated New York. I hate the subways in July. I hate that if I want to go to a really good grocery store [which "Associated Supermarkets" is not] I have to travel all the way to Union Square; which is a pain when you just want a decent avocado. I hate the squatters next door, always begging for cigarettes, and on one memorable occasion, pizza. I hate that I can't find PBR in a bottle or smoke in a bar... and don't even get me started on the lack of sweet tea. I hate the remoteness of Avenue C. I hate that my friends are 12 hours away. I hate the buildings everywhere, going to the laundromat, and our apartment which is roughly the size of my closet back home.

Of course, John loves New York.

I thought, surely I'll have to leave him. There's no way I'm going to be able to stick this out, especially considering my Southern blood is cold when it's 75, and winter is quickly headed our way. I love John, but love can only sustain a person so long.

But now autumn has settled in. It's cold and grey, but the leaves are orange and red and incredible. We walked through Central Park on Sunday afternoon, the chomp-chomp of dead leaves under our feet and that sweet fall smell in the air. It's a kind of autumn I've never experienced in the South. The skate rink is open, and I want to go even though I haven't gone ice skating in probably eight years. I love being bundled up in my new coat and hat and gloves. I love the pumpkins in all the windows all over the city. I love walking into my warm apartment, which suddently seems almost... cozy. I - dare I say - love New York in the autumn, and even find myself excitedly anticipating the snow. I want to go to the park and build a snowman; I want to have a snowball fight.

This autumn, this impending winter... these are newfound things to me. It's a different kind of cold. The seasons actually change here, and it's beautiful and something I am not at all accustomed to. The New Yorkers laugh at me when I tell them how excited I am for winter - a season that usually depresses me to no end. "Wait, just wait. You'll hate it soon." But I am imagining the Christmas lights strung all over the city, and the quiet the snow will bring. I am a snow bird in reverse, happily staying North for the winter.

New York, just when I think I can't stand another second... New York, ever surprising and ever changing.

A relationship like most relationships in my life.

It's been a strange week. I am either getting a terrible chest cold or my allergies are getting worse as the seasons change. Either way, I'm miserable. The good news: I haven't smoked in days. I made the decision to quit before I started feeling ill, but as soon as I quit smoking I started having trouble breathing and got a sore throat. I never had breathing problems the whole time I was a smoker and now this. I, ever the pessimist, announced I'd be dead by morning, however John has a more positive outlook and continues to try and shake some sense in me. He says I'll be fine, but what does he know. He's not a doctor. Damn him and his realism.

I would go to a doctor, of course, except that they terrify me, so as long as I am still able to breathe somewhat normally, I'm not going. When I start turning blue I'll think about going, but not a moment sooner.

Have I mentioned that I'm a hypochondriac? No? Well, I am.

Fall is here, and today was one of those days I really loved living in New York. After I got home from work I put on my brand new coat and took a walk through Tompkins Square Park. The leaves are changing; the skies were slate grey, but the trees are turning bright orange and red. It was cold, but not too cold. The streets were full of people, and I was happy to be here. I walked down St. Mark's and bought John some jazz records - Theolonius Monk and John Coltrane - and had a long discussion with Kate on the phone about Lost and the lack of gossip coming from back home.

This change in seasons is a new event for me, and thus far I like it. I can't wait until the city is white and snowy and decorated with Christmas lights. I'm sure I'll get sick of it soon enough, but winter will be quite the novelty for me.

I have so much to do, so much weighing over me. I feel like I have no time whatsoever. I need to do laundry, finish my work for Clay, go get my paycheck, clean the apartment, buy a new tea pot - the old one is two seconds from breaking. Wednesday night I have to go to a fund raiser for work in SoHo. Thursday night we're going to see Minus the Bear. John and I are also going to buy a new down comforter and sheets this weekend. Our anniversary present to one another. Which is Monday, by the way. One year. I am so excited about new sheets. There's a phrase I never thought I'd type. What have I become?

Now I am going to down some vitamin C pills, forget about everything I need to get done, make a pot of tea and curl up in bed with either David Sedaris or Augusten Burroughs - my literary equivalent to chicken soup.

Happy Friday.

As the weather turns colder and the leaves begin to change so do my musical tastes. Summer's rock and roll gives way the more mellow, warm sounds of autumn. I say goodbye to Ben Kweller, David Bowie, Head Automatica, Michael Jackson, Nada Surf, The Old 97's, The Pixies, The Weakerthans, and early Ryan Adams, among others - my summer staples - until springtime. [Or until I begin craving springtime.] Now is the time for Serge Gainsbourg, Johnny Cash, early DCFC, Nick Cave, Sufjan Stevens, The Be Good Tanyas, Rufus Wainwright, Whiskeytown and more recent Ryan Adams.

This weekend was our first taste of autumn in New York. It dipped down into the 60s [although it felt colder], and I was left with the realization that I am going to freeze to death in a few short months. I don't know how this winter thing works. I don't understand the concept of snow that sticks or ice or ear muffs. These are foreign concepts to my Southern mind.

My only close encounter with winter came when I was seven or eight years old. We moved to Hudson, Ohio [just outside of Cleveland] in September one year. It was beautiful: we were coming from Texas and were greeted by the changing leaves; everything was gold and red and orange. It was when I first fell in love with autumn; it was the first time I remember a noticeable change in the seasons. Sadly, this beautiful, temperate time didn't last. By

November the sky had turned a slate gray color and the sun had left us for more tropical locales. The snow came up to my shoulders and just kept falling. My brother - sickly from birth with constant colds and fevers in the winter - was a mess with ear infections and strep throat. Waiting for the bus every morning was dreadful. I dreamt of summer and warm, blue water; sand and ocean. Eventually, over spring break [which was not spring-y at all], my family decided we had had enough. My dad was offered a job in El Paso, Texas and we packed up our things and headed back down South, where we belonged. Those short months was my family's one and only venture into the North; a venture we rarely speak of now, except to agree at what a tremendous mistake we made.

Yet, here I am, back in a cold climate for the second time in my life. Dreading the impending winter more and more everyday. Taking an inventory of my clothes and realizing I have no sweaters, maybe two long sleeved shirts, no good, solid winter boots. I'll have

to stock up, and soon. I am hopeful I will survive this winter slightly better than I fared in Ohio. I suppose it's a different sort of winter, anyway.

I did enjoy our autumn-like weekend. My dad, brother, step-mom, step-sister and my brother's girlfriend flew in for a visit. I had to play tour guide, of course, but it was so good to see everyone. We went to the Met; walked through Central Park; out to two fabulous dinners. I took them to Battery Park where we waited in line for an hour to board the

boat to the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island. I took my brother, his girlfriend and my step-sister to a jazz club in our neighborhood and the hookah bar below our apartment. They ate hot dogs off the street, good New York pizza and we shared some amazing wine at dinner. I almost felt like I was having a vacation as well. Living here I never go to Central Park or the Met, although I'd like to, so it was enjoyable to get to do some of the things I take for granted since I live here.