good times in new york

despite it being dark for most of the time i'm awake and not at work, i am enjoying life in new york city these days.

the leaves finally got their cue to change, and took it. My walk to the train takes me under a gloriously golden Maple tree that reminds me of the triplets that welcomed me home from school when i was young in the mountains. Three proud young maples announced our driveway like trumpeteers to a young princess coming into her kingdom.

Sunday last, i skipped church and participated in a fund-raiser race in Central Park. The rain held off, and the damp grey day ended up a wonderful cold for running with the leaves a breathtaking backdrop (although i guess i needed all the breath i could get!). I didn't make it running the whole 4 miles, but i was satisfied with 2 1/2 since i've hardly run at all in the last year.

Yesterday i gave thanks by joining a dear friend and some of her girlfriends in their T-day tradition of serving a meal at the Bowery Mission. I felt so *good* to be there--not in a *whew, i've done something positive* way, but in a *this is what i'm supposed to do so that i feel healthy and whole* kind of way. Sort of like i felt when i was running through the park. So i've determined that i need to make it a more regular activity, giving time to serve at Bowery Mission. They serve three meals a day, 365 days a year. I'm sure there are many days they are desperate for volunteers.

My next activity was to head up to my office building with two good friends, where we climbed out the conference room window and sat on the ledge overlooking a corner of Herald Square and Macy's. We watched like children (perhaps more rapt than children, if the three who joined us with their parents are an example of the average) to the balloons and fireworks and confetti snow shot through the air. There was also a perplexing balloon, a silver bunny that i later learned was based on a sculpture by the artist, Jeff Koons. A friend who works in Koons' studio tipped me to the fact that this was the artists' addition to the parade. You can read about it here.

The rest of the day was preparing for and then hosting a wonderfully perfect celebration of American history--twelve men and women, some strangers, some good friends, some Americans, some "aliens," some in the process of becoming citizens. There were at least 5 "mother tongues" in the room (English, Spanish, Greek, Hindi, Japanese), and probably more that were fluently spoken. We had debates in English and Spanish over levels of tryptophan in poultry. We attempted to find a satisfactory definition of "continent" (as in the land mass), and marveled at Cuban definitions of "black"ness.

It was a beautiful day. For all that it was, i give much thanks.