There are few cities I know like I know New York City. I am fortunate enough to return to the Big Apple time and time again, creating a familiarity with her streets that I don’t have with any other place besides my hometown.
Sure, there was a time when I traveled to San Francisco every month but we all know I only went there for the lemon tarts. (I’m only half joking.)
One of the beautiful things about visiting a city so many times is the ability to view it with a proverbial magnifying glass, instead of only observing the big picture of it in its entirety. The familiarity allows me to look beyond the infinite rows of skyscrapers, the millions upon millions of people, the gridlock of concrete and traffic and noise, and see the intimate moments that a city as massive as New York can actually have.
Every single time I’ve traveled to New York City I’ve done so with a different purpose. Sometimes it’s been to see old friends or introduce someone new to the city. Other times I’ve simply gone in search of escape from life in Salt Lake City.
But this trip I went for one reason and one reason only: because it’s New York City and it was early summer and she’s a hell of a beaut that time of year.
Oh, who am I kidding: New York City is beautiful any time of year.