Spring is slowly blooming in NYC, and it doesn’t fail to put a smile on my face. I’m still waiting for the warm tulips to go on display on Park Avenue and for trickles of green, like shots of dye, to weave their way throughout the city. Still, sun-dappled streets and clear blue skies inspire me to step out more, breathe in deeper and just take it all in.
This past weekend, my hubby was in town — a pause in his hectic globetrotting schedule of late — and we visited Central Park, a visit that’s practically daily ever since the bright sun has decided to peek out behind the clouds more often. The wind bit at our eyes and ears, but even with the white sun eclipsing our vision from time to time, it was lovely to see small red buds dot skeletal branches reaching up for the sky and the rare, lush cherry blossom tree screaming pink.
I love these walks. When I’m on my own, I feel all my thoughts and worries fade into the background, and all I’m attuned to are my whispery-soft footsteps on the ground. It feels like a bit of urban magic.
I do love these walks more with my hubby though. It feels iconic; life has come round full circle. I remember visiting Central Park when I was younger, many times with my school to visit playgrounds, playing fields or running paths. As I grew older, I paved answers to my questions while taking paths that are second nature to me.
With my hubby, these walks mean nothing but comfort and joy. There are memory landmarks along the paths we take, and it’s fun to point them out to my hubby now, after many years have past and hindsight is not only 20/20 but full of rosy perspective.
So this past weekend — a simple one amongst many past and many to come — I reveled in grabbing hold of my hubby’s hand, us laughing through the sunshine, making the most of each other’s company and stealing some sweetness on a spring afternoon.