It wasn't a significant birthday, and I spent most of it at my desk dealing with the massive work project that's kept me silent here for lo, these many months. But it was an April birthday in New York City in a season that's been full of gifts. A weird hybrid spring-winter-spring season that's been going on for months, and about which we can only say "global warming" and shake our heads and then gasp appreciatively at tulips and ornamental pear trees coming on stage way before their cue.
A wise friend of mine (and you know who you are, dear M.) once said that when you've been away from your blog for months, you shouldn't try to write the definitive recap. You should post pictures. So here are postcards from a winterspring (wing? sprinter?) in New York, the city that gives me gifts every day of the year.
|New York aglow, January.|
|Public art, Riverside Park, February.|
|The Hudson River and Hoboken, from the High Line, early March.|
|The High Line coming into bloom.|
|Spring on Charles Street, West Village, New York City, March.|
|Madison Square Park, April.|