There are few places that make my heart skip a beat at the mere thought.  Maybe it's too much Sex & the City or a latent broadway fantasy, but there's really something about New York.  Its grid pattern, satisfying in its arithmetical tidiness, its yellow cabs and endless walkability.  Late-afternoon light playing on the old brickwork, deep shadows at street-level, reaching way up to a bright winter sky above.  It's a city where every angle seems set-dressed, ready for its closeup.

And the Park.  I mean, really.  Almost eight hundred acres preserved forever.  It's like Narnia with its nooks and crannies, its scary bits and its majesty, a fear of getting lost in it quickly assuaged by a desire to be just that.

(January 2006, NYC)