Early Morning in Bed-Stuy

Counter intuitive though it may seem, Nikki and I have finally been able to slow down here in New York. Work doesn’t begin for another week and many of our days are spent languidly exploring the city.

We often start the day with a jog through Bedford-Stuyvesant, rewarding ourselves with a smoothie made from the dirt-cheap fruit stand nestled beneath the train tracks. After getting ready and perhaps eating a light lunch, we pack our picnic bag with sandwiches and snacks and go wander Brooklyn, catch a baseball game or laze around at the beach.

After months of planning, working, errand-running and traveling, being able to slip out to the ocean in the morning, with no phone or any way to tell time except the blazing sun overhead, is beautiful.

Of course, the city can get to us neophytes, when we’re not careful. One sweltering Saturday, I spent two hours tromping up and down the neighborhood looking for somewhere to print our Yankees tickets. When I finally found what I was looking for, a friendly receptionist for a Caribbean tax service, it took another hour and a half to figure out how to send the attachment to her email address with my smartphone.

I’ll spare you the gory details of the four-hour nightmare to change phone plans while out on the town or the time I was convinced I had lost my keys by leaving them in the keyhole outside our door. Not very fun, that, much like the $#!#@% New York subway system.

But the good times really have been good. Earlier this week, I went out just before sunrise to hunt for flowers among the brownstones of Bed-Stuy and private gardens that pop out from every block. I expected life when we moved to Brooklyn, but didn’t think I would find so much beauty.