1.) Layers for winter. Wool knee socks that peek through my brown leather boots over my softest pair of black cotton leggings; my over-sized chunky sweater from Banana paired with one of my mother's "want-to-snuggle-your-face-up-to-it" scarves patterned with polka dots and checker boards, horizontal stripes and vertical stripes; a crocheted pair of gloves and a comfortably fitting hat with a rainbow of pom poms on top. I will miss the warmth that doesn't come from the sun, but from the comfort of layers that sooth my soul from both the heaviness of the fabrics and the love and memories that have been sewed within them.
2.) Deserted Beaches. Places untouched. When I think about West Palm Beach, I think about tourists. I see mobs of vacationers dragging coolers and umbrellas across the blazing hot sand, sunscreen slopped children holding the hands of mothers toting sacks of beach toys and buckets on their backs, life guards at the ready in bright red one-pieces with safety rafts under their arms and hands over head, and coozies of beer cans held by fathers scrolling their blackberries for e-mails from work. I assume that, like in Bellport, after a period of time as a "Floridian" I will find not only beaches, but little nooks and crannies untouched by tourists, saved and cherished for those who appreciate life unmarked, for those not in search of a getaway but a home.
3.) My accent. Yes. my accent. I realize that most of you are probably wondering how one loses an accent but the truth is, and those of you who know me all too well, know that I have a tendency to acquire different sounds and inflections based on my current city. I grew up "tawking ova cawfee" but by the time I graduated from college in Raaaachester I was "talking over coffee." And now that I am back on Long Island I have combined the two and I am somewhere between "tawking" and "coffee." God only knows what I will be doing over coffee in Florida but if the Long Island, the Rochester, and the Florida accents combine together, I may be on the road to one severe identity crisis!
4.) The Big Apple. The fast paced life brought on by business people on Wall street and millionaires on Park Ave; the Fashion District filled with miles of material for models with legs just as long; or sports fans with baseball caps and hot dogs on the 7 train on their way to Citifield; tourists in search of familial history on Ellis Island, a photograph of the Statue of Liberty while floating down the Hudson or the heart-racing feeling obtained by climbing the Empire State building, all of this powered by subways and buses, trains and taxi's, airports and trams. I'll miss the relatively quiet neighborhoods on the West Side in Chelsea where I spent a couple of summers taking the E train back and forth to my internship on Park; spending sunsets on the High Line, photographing couples holding hands, businessmen with their ties loosened, pregnant women holding their swollen bellies, children impatiently waiting in line on their tip-toes at the gelatto cart...I will miss the feeling of the cold plastic beneath my legs on the subway, the smell of chestnuts roasting on the corner cart in the winter time, the sound of taxis honking and traffic rushing by, and the taste of real New York City pizza with gooey cheese and crispy crust.
5.) My family & My friends.
This list was meant to be short, and to the point, sort of like #5. But I guess #5 is as obvious as it gets, but the others, the others needed explaining. Or at least I thought so...Ha. Look. I'm rambling again.
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