It's one of those days in fall where it's hard to differentiate if it is in fact about to be winter soon or if it is a warm day in spring, with summer not far in it's shadow. I know for a fact though that a bitter winter is well on its way and this warmth will soon be packaged away for days in May. Groups of tourists begin filling the seaport's wooden decks, snapping photos of their loved ones, while I gaze out at the one thing I love in this moment - my city. With lunch hour approaching restaurants on Fulton Street begin to bustle with hungry pedestrians, causing my thoughts for the moment to take a backseat as my stomach begins rumble. I look at my watch to check the exact time, not surprised that my friend is late to meet me for lunch, as his deliberation to either wear a fedora or a fitted baseball hat is probably taking exaggerated time in front of a mirror. It's then I light a cigarette to curb my hunger, watching the sunlight reflect off the choppy tide with the red vessel, the Ambrose, rocking graciously in its current. Buildings stand tall, as though they are protecting the brick townhouses & pizza parlors right across the Brooklyn Bridge, like a mother city protecting her young. My friend is now here, I stand up and walk away from the river quietly humming, "New York State of Mind."
