“Why do you go away? So that you can come back. So that you can see the place you came from with new eyes and extra colours. And the people there see you differently, too. Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving” – Terry Pratchett
After a way too good to be true week in Costa Rica spent finding puffer fish and snakes on the beach, eating empanadas and trying to embody ‘Pura Vida’ as closely as I could without becoming a cliche, I’m back in New York five shades darker and completely centered (there I go, slipping into cliches).
Everytime I come home from a trip, whether it’s a week or a month, the magic of seeing New York City for the first-time again hits me like a wheelbarrow full of angry pigs. The lights are warmer, the buildings are taller, the people are more beautiful and impeccably dressed. Short of the entire city putting on a filter for my return, it’s crazy to me that I forget about the raw beauty of New York when I haven’t travelled in a while.
I guess that’s the problem with living in any city, right? You fail to fully appreciate it until you leave. Everyday I try to remind myself that New York isn’t permanent, and that one day it’s going to be a jumbled memory of rats in the subway and that weird smell those white trees that bloom in Spring and how it fills the streets of downtown Brooklyn. That everyday here is something to be savored and noticed and felt.
Especially as we finally transition to blue skies and rooftop drinks in the afternoon, I don’t think it’ll be hard for me to remember and be grateful for New York. My gams are out, my jackets aren’t filled with down and I’m in New York. Life couldn’t be much better, right?
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