A while back I wrote one of my favorite entries – Leaves – about the possibilities of things in store for the future, and excitement that comes with knowing that other things are coming. I’ve always gleaned tremendous energy from dreams, hence the name of my first blog – Little Girl Big Dreams. In the later college years learned to spread these dreams out as wings and fly, and here I am today.
Today was a day of dreams. Lately, as I mentioned, I’ve been eating better and sleeping more and generally taking the necessary care of my body. What needed taking care of now was the soul – and that was how I dedicated today. I needed a day to nurture, and a day to regain perspective, hope. Granted, I did buy a hairdryer and a couple of sweaters today which were less than soul-inspiring purchases, but the meandering pace and music-filled journey to do these errands provided plenty of day-dreaming opportunities. (Plus one sweater I bought is going to fit perfectly with my new Brooklyn self – a navy cashmere, a little oversized with very long sleeves that can be thrown on with my “cowboy-spaceman” boots, a scarf, vintage looking sunglasses and a cool pendant I have yet to seek out at the Flea. The sweater was also $10. Brooklyn Win). I spent a lot of time thinking about what it would be like to live here for real, not just as a temporary resident who may be asked to board a plane for Detroit or Japan at the drop of a hat, but as someone who is building a life in a place they love. I thought about where I would meet new friends, and as I passed by each little coffee shop and bar I thought “yes, that’s somewhere I will go with my new friends. With my new lover. That’s somewhere I will take my friends when they come to visit me in New York.”
Today there were no leaves, but there were daffodils. It was strange, perhaps it was just the first time in a while that I’d ventured into the kind of neighborhoods with flowers planted around trees at the edge of the sidewalks (mine certainly doesn’t have that), but I hadn’t seen any flowers other than those in grocery store windows until today. And then today everywhere I looked there were daffodils springing up, complimenting the perfect blue sky with pops of yellow.
One of my roommates and I went out for dinner and decided to walk since it was such a nice evening. The mile and a half seemed nothing in the temperate climate, and we enjoyed strolling through Park Slope, a beautifully vintage neighborhood with buildings that actually looked like slim houses, not just sardine tins piled one on top of another. There were little flowerbeds near some houses with daffodils and other things springing forth optimistically from the soil. We found houses with turrets and chandeliers in brownstones, and we mused what it would be like to live in places like these one day – how perfect they would be for entertaining, how nice it would be to walk outside in this neighborhood, and how close we still were to bustling Manhattan. At dinner we drank root beer from bottles with straws like little girls and talked about where we wanted to be when we grew up – I mean really grow up – not just here at the quarter life crisis. A candle on the table flickered in her eyes and in mine, and it lit the daffodils on the table, casting shapely shadows on the wall.
And on the way home we walked past an ice cream stand. It was built into the side of one of those beautiful old Park Slope buildings, and as soon as we walked past it we just looked at each other and knew. It didn’t matter that we were wearing beanies and she was wearing a down jacket, or that we’d just calorie-fested on French fries, or that it was April or anything else. It was a beautiful night, there were daffodils growing by a tree on the corner, and we were getting ice cream. Cookies and cream and chocolate. And we walked home, not even chilly, warmed by the knowledge that spring is on its way.