We have popped into The City on occasion, in the late fall and early winter time frame actually catching part of the Thanksgiving Day parade from the route itself (meaning we had a chance to see the backs of the heads of people who had gotten up even earlier than did we and who stood in line even longer to see the backs of other people's heads) and admired the Macy's windows and did all the touristy things I never really did when I was in school in Manhattan.
I got to thinking about this trip on Saturday when we had a brief, as in a cloud passing overhead, rain that fell just long enough to create slight steam in the parking lot of the local market and produce that aroma of wet asphalt that will always mean Spring and Spring most especially in Manhattan for me forever.
My yearning didn't cause me to head immediately to New London or New Haven and catch a train, though I have a tracker on my cell phone that lets Sigrid know where I am since I tend to wander and get lost/hurt in equal proportion on a recurring basis but it might have been fun to have seen her facial expression as my little red dot headed south.
All of that is for another time and the anticipation will not dampen the actual enjoyment when the time arrives. But in the meantime, I can enjoy the quiet and less brash tones of where I live now.
That is one of a bunch of shots I took on Saturday in one of the villages that makes up the city of Norwich, where I live. Sometimes we seem more like seven villages in search of a city rather than a major population center and the largest pocket o' people on this side of the Connecticut River (I will try to copyright that 'pocket o' people' thing, just so you know) but it works far more often than it doesn't, at least for me.
-bill kenny
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