By all accounts, last winter in New York was a brutal one. On any given day, we Californians would be Insta-shamed by iPhone weather screenshots from New Yorkers lamenting the bitter cold, wind chill or ‘0°?!’ as we basked in our summer-like sun. And yet, if you asked any one of our dearly beloved Big Apple dwellers to identify the best city in America (and some will go so far to say the world), they will answer for their chosen home without a moment’s hesitation. “The energy”, “the food”, “the culture”, “the diversity”, “the dream” – a starryness drifts into their eyes and all wintry recollection fades as they detail their version of its greatness. It is the land of driven dreamers, those for whom the rose colored belief that you can walk out your door and find that anything can happen is a point of pride.

The stereotype warns against that angry New Yorker, the very same we witnessed opening doors for strangers, allowing us to go first at a crowded cash register, righting our routes when we proved lost and entertaining a little bit of our overindulgence with what can only be described as grace. Indeed there is the gritty, hard, dark-cornered subplot to follow here, but why bother when you could wrap yourself in the romance of its aliveness instead? There is always something to be a part of, always some energy that will sweep you away, if only you’re willing to let it. 

With love from the big city,
Katie