Living near but not in Philadelphia has its perks. I am not a city girl although I did once live in Rome, and liked it. Of course, there, I had my little garden and my quiet little house, and could recede when I liked from the city. After a year, I longed to walk barefoot on grass. And that kind of sums up city living for me: it may be intriguing, beautiful and inviting, but in the end it can't give you bare feet on grass. In fact, in Rittenhouse Square today, Tim and I saw a splendid red-tailed hawk hanging out on the lawn, amongst the sparse crowds strolling in thick coats, eating a rat. That is not somewhere I want to kick off my shoes. But the hawk and the city charmed me today. It was a bit too cold for casual sauntering, so we dipped into La Colombe, he for coffee, me for a steamed milk. I handed Tim the camera and told him he was in charge of snapping me for a change. I kept seeing little shops and old signs and sunshine peeling paint, grasping tree shadows, paint drips and cones and spray painted water mains making bright impromptu still lifes. Insert me here. And *click.* I wished I had my Polaroid camera. I wished I could stop the car and take snapshots, but I couldn't, there was no parking and we were late and I would have been in the way. So I drove on, breathing deep, letting it roll on, and swearing, swearing, that I would come back. Soon. Maybe next week. I'm sure I can remember where all those signs and shops and paint drips are. Tim's pretty good with me when I start on like this. He's even gotten to the point where, if he's driving, he'll turn the car around on road trips for me to go back and take that one elusive, perfect, unforgettable picture. And if I'm driving, he doesn't even need to ask why we're doing a U-turn.
loving the gum spots in that last one!