the way we were

I came to New York to visit partner this weekend, and while fall -- without the accompanying temperatures -- had already started in Indianapolis, the ginko trees on the streets here show no color. All is green and waiting, a suspended end of summer.

When I got off the plane at LaGuardia, I heard continued phrases such as "I just heard about it" as people talked in their cell phones -- about an hour earlier, the small plane had crashed into a residential building. It was raining hard outside, and the cab driver told me that the north side of Manhattan was virtually impossible to drive through. People looked grim, and then relieved that it was merely a horrific accident rather than an act of terror.

Partner and I went to Madison Square Garden to see Barbra Streisand's concert, something he had arranged months earlier. She sang her classic songs from "Funny Girl," including "People" and "My Man, I Love Him So."

Yesterday was a clear, blue sky afternoon. I walked to the Strand bookstore and found a book I was interested in. It's an amazing used bookstore, but terribly overwhelming, with narrow aisles and shelves that require the use of small metal step ladders placed throughout the store. And I have such a hard time reading small print these days. So I find it best to be looking for something specific rather than just browse through the stacks of books.

Someone told me it had snowed in Indy on Thursday.