Odilia's Metropolitan Diaries by Odilia Rivera-Santos

The winter was some kind of purgatory, trunching through the feet of snow with a wind made of sharp rocks and a clearing only to receive another avalanche, and then, the glory of forgetting. .. it was ever cold. I was out and about, running errands on Wednesday and the sun was the most brilliant engaging company. The sun kept up as I marched up and down Manhattan's streets in search of a new market and lo and behold!

I found a great Russian market near my new apartment, which also sells Ukrainian and Greek food. My friend, not the sun -- a human one, looked damp and wilted and as if he could take no more of the heat. It was beautiful though. Steady breeze, steady sun, and the fire hydrates are not supposed to be opened because of fires, but there were two chubby three-year-old boys running in and out of the water, looking so gleeful and content to be in that space and time. 

I thought about the beauty of the city and its myriad challenges, moods, poses and opportunities to get lost in her wake. I stepped aside and let her pass, so I could respectfully admire her gifts and thank her for enlivening my life with her presence.