sun day

The payoff for the bitter New York City winter is that one day in April, it gets warm, and the entire city comes outside to play.

It's almost like a city-wide pact: When the day finally arrives that you can leave the house without a coat, you sit in the park, have lunch at a sidewalk cafe, walk your dog by the river. You get out and see your fellow New Yorkers who have been cooped up since late November.

The day finally came.

I ordered a lemonade with my lunch and the man behind the counter said, good choice--I'm going to have that with my lunch. The lady in line behind me said, I'll take one of those, too.

I sat next to a sunny window and got too warm for the first time in a long time.

The steps of Low Library were suddenly blanketed with people talking and laughing. People threw frisbees. Out of nowhere, the fountains that had been filled with dead leaves were clean and on again.

Late in the afternoon, I saw a girl coming up the subway stairs who had the blush of sun on her skin. Around her scoop-neck collar was the season's first tan line.

I came home and put on flip-flops. The evening was still warm, so B and Olivia and I walked down and got our first ice cream of the season. We got cones, of course, and walked home licking them.