A charming moment

Last night I experienced as close to perfection as is possibly possible on a New York City street. I got my sweet little Mac laptop back on her feet (hooray for the cute techies at the Apple Genius Bar), which pleased me to no end. I was primed for some love.

Two hours earlier I had battled my way up Fifth Avenue to the Apple Store, through a never-ending throng of European tourists and middle school girls soccer teams on Spring Break. When I stepped outside the plexiglass box that is the store, I braced myself to bob and weave through the crowd again. But something miraculous happened.

The street and sidewalk were charmingly free of people. There were no cars whizzing past, honking and barking at one another. Only a few people walked sedately past me. And the air was warm and the sky was in that marvelous romantic dusky time.

I love New York with all the ferver my little heart can muster. BUT. Sometimes it can get noisy and crowded and frustrating. These quiet moments soothe me and must be savored. I walked past the newly renovated Plaza Hotel, admiring the new facade and remembering fun memories. (Martha? Giggling on the bed in the biggest suite we've ever been in?) I then walked past the sweet, tired horsies pulling carriages. Past the southeast corner of Central Park, where, just over the pond, tiny purple buds are beginning to form on the tree tops.

Then I entered the subway station, which was also remarkably empty and calm. A train pulled up. I transfered at Times Square. This station as well--which is really amazing--was quiet as could be. And someone was wearing tuberose perfume. Which is one my most favoritest smells ever.

Sometimes you just feel complete. For some, it might be eating a spectacular meal or accomplishing something great at work or whatever. I like those things too. But in this moment last night, I was incandesantly happy. Because of a little quietness and some tuberose perfume.