la gran vuelta
Tuesday marks my grand return to my love and second home, Miami. A city second only in its splendor to the glorious Manhattan and an extremely close number two spot on my list of favorite cities in the world. I honestly have no earthly idea what I shall spend my time doing besides visiting my family, and I am comfortable with having no plan. I have a vague idea that I'd like to go to some great nightspots, hit a beach or poolside, and blow some major cash on frivolous Miami boutique shopping. But those loose fancies are all I am heading there with, besides the hope that Hurricane Ernesto doesn't completely obliterate Florida and my life. Oh yes and the prayer that I don't have a three hour long panic attack on the flights there and back. But no matter, I am the courageous voyager returning to the city full of my own Cuban flavor.
I had this moment yesterday that's stayed with me. It was one of those amazing moments in life that's aboslutely pristine and completely memorable for no reason at all. I was driving to pick up my contacts from the eye doctor in West New York and I had to talk JFK East, a street that boasts absolutely fantastic views of the Hudson and the skyline. There's a steep and dramatic hill it rests basically on top of, and down the hill are parks and public areas for basketball, concerts, and such. I guess the area could be considered palisades overlooking the Hudson. Anyhow, I was driving along on this grey, cool day usually sort of typical of fall, and John Coltraine randomly popped up as the next song on my iPod. So as this happens, I could see tons of boats sailing along the Hudson. Ferries and barges and tons of tiny sailboats dotting the water and creating a sort of odd juxtaposition against the collage of buildings. A wedding party was taking pictures and their dresses and jackets were being blown by the wind. Parents strolled by with their kids and bunches of guys played pick up games on the basketball courts and girls jogged along. And then, I swear, in perfectly choreographed syncronicity, a flock of birds took flight together toward the water.
I mentioned the John Coltraine thing because it was like a soundtrack to my life at that exact moment. Everything fit in perfectly - the lighting of the day, the people in the parks, the boats, the stunning view. The birds just capped it off. It was like watching a montage from a romantic movie that takes place in New York, set to music that was so perfectly matched to the mood of the moment that it's almost painfully on the nose.
Life hands you certain small, perfect moments every once in forever that are special because they're really not special at all but their completely ideal and therefore absolutely precious. They're never obvious or remotely overwhelming, but they're powerful. It stayed with me all day and night and into today and I just knew I had to write about it. Every time I hear John Coltraine's "My Favorite Things" ((a song of his I thought was a little too mainstream before)) I'll remember that and it will move me in a way the song never did before.
And now, I go to bed.
I had this moment yesterday that's stayed with me. It was one of those amazing moments in life that's aboslutely pristine and completely memorable for no reason at all. I was driving to pick up my contacts from the eye doctor in West New York and I had to talk JFK East, a street that boasts absolutely fantastic views of the Hudson and the skyline. There's a steep and dramatic hill it rests basically on top of, and down the hill are parks and public areas for basketball, concerts, and such. I guess the area could be considered palisades overlooking the Hudson. Anyhow, I was driving along on this grey, cool day usually sort of typical of fall, and John Coltraine randomly popped up as the next song on my iPod. So as this happens, I could see tons of boats sailing along the Hudson. Ferries and barges and tons of tiny sailboats dotting the water and creating a sort of odd juxtaposition against the collage of buildings. A wedding party was taking pictures and their dresses and jackets were being blown by the wind. Parents strolled by with their kids and bunches of guys played pick up games on the basketball courts and girls jogged along. And then, I swear, in perfectly choreographed syncronicity, a flock of birds took flight together toward the water.
I mentioned the John Coltraine thing because it was like a soundtrack to my life at that exact moment. Everything fit in perfectly - the lighting of the day, the people in the parks, the boats, the stunning view. The birds just capped it off. It was like watching a montage from a romantic movie that takes place in New York, set to music that was so perfectly matched to the mood of the moment that it's almost painfully on the nose.
Life hands you certain small, perfect moments every once in forever that are special because they're really not special at all but their completely ideal and therefore absolutely precious. They're never obvious or remotely overwhelming, but they're powerful. It stayed with me all day and night and into today and I just knew I had to write about it. Every time I hear John Coltraine's "My Favorite Things" ((a song of his I thought was a little too mainstream before)) I'll remember that and it will move me in a way the song never did before.
And now, I go to bed.