| N.Y.C. |
| I am walking to work at about five thirty in the morning in New York City. Cappuccino in hand, I make my way through the waking city. However the city doesn�t just stop its activity at night. This city is truly a city that never sleeps. The cabs are always taking people around the city. They honk at drivers who get in their way. They speed past lights of a thousand colors. There are signs for clubs or shops that illuminate the street constantly. The colors range from red to black. The signs keep the city bright, the clouds of pollution reflecting and spreading their light over the metropolis. But now that the sun has come up the lights are less brilliant or off. They look like useless tubes of glass yearning to glow in their luminescent glory. The city has a constant stench that smells of steam from the underground subway and old garbage. Living in the city for so long, you tend not to notice it. On the warm mornings you notice the garbage smell more; however, today the wind is biting cold, and I pull my wool jacket more tightly across my chest. I readjust my grip on my cappuccino to warm another part of my hand. I continue to walk faster to my office, hoping the new pace will warm my legs, it doesn�t help the air is just too cold. As I sip my coffee I notice the air tastes vile, something like ash or pollution. I am relieved my coffee still tastes the same. The ground is hard and resists my steps with a harsh coldness. I can hear the click clack of others� shoes as they pass. They don�t seem to mind the harshness of the cement. I prefer the soft grass, feeling the give of the dirt. Compared to the cement a nice field of grass and dirt is heaven. Grass is more resilient and receives your feet like a soft pillow. The hustle of the people around me makes it seem as if I am late or need to get where I am going more quickly. In truth I am early and don�t need to rush. The energy of the people around gives you a sense of being hurried. Sometimes you feel like a salmon swimming up stream, fighting against the crowds of people seeming to always be walking in the opposite direction. They swarm around you; you are never in one place without someone there with you. The people are always near you; you can�t get away. Even when you step into a store or shop there will always be people there. There is a constant feeling of never being alone. Some people like that feeling; however, I am a country girl myself, I enjoy walking barefooted in the grass on a warm day. Or I often enjoy reading a book under a tree, with the breeze flowing right by. However I am not a people person and I like my quiet time. The city is a place to earn money for me. I look forward to earning enough money to go back to my country home. There I will enjoy my peacefulness and serenity; however, I might miss the city just a little. |