I don’t know when spring got here but it did, behind my back. One day I was sitting on the cross-town bus going down Fifth Avenue and I could almost see right through Central Park to the West Side. The branches were bare and the yellow cabs were visible along with the early morning runners and people with their dogs.
But suddenly today, in what seemed like mere hours, green leaves were in abundance blocking my view and covering up the tall buildings of Central Park South. Spring showed up, officially ending another season, another year. Gone are the harsh winds of winter, the biting cold, the unbearable frigidity of the dark pavement of Manhattan that has a way, (by the time February rolls around), of making you start to lose your mind.
It never ceases to amaze me how much (our lives, everything) keeps happening right in front of our eyes in this city when we’re too busy (stupid, greedy, blind) to notice.
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