From all accounts, leaves have been turning for weeks - I just haven't noticed them until now. On the day of my dad's surgery, my mother and I were careening through Central Park in a taxi when it suddenly occurred to me how beautiful this time of year is when the light hits the yellow ginko leaves and radiates warmth. I feel like a big brown bear climbing out of its den after a long nap - I've been lumbering about, sniffing the change, hungry to get back into the swing of things again.
There are days when I feel full of love for the beauty and humanity of this city. Last night Fauxhawk told me that our Yemeni newspaper guy ran out of his store to ask after my dad. "My friend, how is my friend's father?" Fauxhawk warned me that there was a thirty percent chance that I would cry after hearing this story, and, like clockwork, I cried (and felt grateful that I wasn't stoic and silent during this process). When I walked down my yellow ginko-lined streed this morning to say hello to my Yemeni newspaper man, he grinned, waved, and called out "THANKS GOD!" in the most wonderful, triumphant way. So touching.
Thanks God for lovely friends. And changing leaves. And beautiful gray autumnal days.
(Also: thanks God for Peppermint Patties, jelly beans, awesome assistants, humorless surgeons, kickass nurses, your sweet comments, and beautiful photography by Marc Yankus included here (via the excellent Living Lab).