Morning is early, the sun is low, and the shadows are long.For about an hour a day, we're all transformed into giant shadows with stick feet, and what's not to love. Basking in the extra hour of sunlight that the daylight savings has earned me, I allow the usual four minute scurry to turn into a 7 minute walk instead. Humming, smelling the Blue Dog brew between 6th and 7th avenues and observing the caffeinated stick shadows shuffle about.
And around this time of year, I allow my brain to escape for a bit and chew on some momories from years ago. It's bittersweet and far away, and yet quite unescapable as Central Park becomes a colour factory of trees. It's a long shadow, a seven year old one. Its edges are getting frayed now and I no longer remember the shape, but it's always around when in the golden morning sunlight.
And I don't grudge it anymore.
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