A New York Time

Squirrels quarrelling, going nuts about nuts. Lovers arm in arm, mesmerized by their surroundings. A homeless man begs at the feet of passers by, I hope he finds shelter tonight.

It‘s 5 in the afternoon on a cool January 6. Locals scurry to their Sunday roasts and family affairs without pause for the squirrels or the man who is destined to sleep in the cold.

My loved ones have gone, they’re headed for sunny Sydney and unpredictable Melbourne. I am hanging on time, these are my final moments with this electric city and this is the closing chapter of my solo adventures.

It’s dark and eerie here. The paths intertwine only visible now by the glow of old fashioned street lamps standing tall and lean above the ground.

I sit on top of a park bench looking towards the Gapstow bridge. I try to capture this moment in led on a page in my blue notebook but I lack artistic talent. Instead of taking a blurry snap or making any further note, I sit, I open my eyes to feel all that is and promise myself to etch this moment into my memory forever.

This is my goodbye to New York for a while, a city I have grown to adore for its endless offerings of life and colour. The rythyms of the Harlem churches, the jazz scene of Brooklyn, the many talents of the subway, and a city called Manhattan.