March 28, 2004
What's in the air
We take this opportunity to suspend the usual art reports, half-thought-out political observations, and expressions of angst to note that the season really has shifted—it is spring. It is the best part of spring, where the air is still a little cold, and the light is warmer, but not really thick yet, and the trees are still bare, so you get to appreciate their minimalist beauty without suffering in an icy wind.
We have opened our windows to allow a fresh mixture of car exhaust, microparticles of asphalt, lint (from the dryers in the laundromat next door), early pollen, and regular old air to equalize the indoor and outdoor atmospheres.
Breakfast today consists of a perfect blood orange—tart, firm, ideal mixture of orange-and-red flecks in the flesh, organic—two slices of dill havarti, two slices of whole grain toast of some sort with butter (yes, butter! organic!), and french mocha coffee. We would have taken a picture of the orange but we ate it instead.
So, here is a cat's eye view of Brooklyn, in early spring, from the sill of the kitchen window, on the fourth floor, looking south towards Coney Island (maybe there is a molecule or two of Atlantic Ocean in the air this morning, too).
