honey and sting

I didn't know how it would take me -- after all, I left it. Would it spurn my return, brief as it is, knowing I've made another place my home? Would it give me the polite stare one gives to strangers, move the entry to the private places, the secret places, the havens within the neverending storm of noise and stimulation so that they would be nowhere to be found? Yesterday, after hours of meetings and clients and meals with friends and a bit of wandering and shopping and starting it all over again, I found my way to the Pond in Central Park, the one by the 100th Street entrance. I began my usual walk around its perimeter, stopping periodically to just watch, quietly. On a rock at the near end was a bird I didn't recognize -- standing upright, 8 or so inches tall, whitish-grey body with black wings and black along the top of its head, and a long, narrow beak. It stook stock still for a long time until the Pond's big white long-leggedy bird aka the Showy Egret came *swooping* in, gidundous wing-span spread wide, and chased him off his rock. This, a friend I told this to later told me, confirmed that rock guy was a fishing bird of some kind; the long skinny beak was the other clue. The Pond in Central Park is one of my favorite spots on earth. All week, I felt myself walking in familiar paths, some comfortable, some not -- but all familiar. It was as normal as could be to meet with friends, walk down the halls of my old job, find places to shop and eat, see clients I left behind in January, and come back to an apartment to sit, alone, at a computer. The noise levels bothered me more than I recall, though that got easier as the days went on and I was able to habituate. I didn't LIKE habituating, though, to the noise, the density, the agita. I've learned my body needs more respite that a place of this incredible vibrancy can provide, Pond notwithstanding. I need to breathe more, to spend more time under trees, to walk down shaded and sun-spattered paths. I need ... I don't know what, exactly, but by leaving New York, I know I took the first step towards finding it. There was no nostalgia here, though there was plenty to enjoy, most especially time spent with beloved friends. I hope they come and see me in my new home. The temporary one I'm staying in now, and the one, still unknown, to come.