Connecticut

The train sluggers on through deep, twisty tunnels, did you know there’s a whole world under Manhattan and here we are now like there isn’t an entire cosmos built above our crowns. Emerge in queens, see the skyline dabble against the edges, so small and far away but always how dear. The Bronx River looks peaceful, inviting, but it’s a hundred degrees out there we are fooling ourselves. I went for a run this morning and nearly became a statistic, it was too hard to stay away. His four-year-old mind asks five million questions before we even reach the suburbs, and when the Atlantic Ocean begins to glitter outside our window, I wonder how we teach children to marvel at the world. Do they know to ask for that? The streets are lush, winding, everything is not-of-the-City and you think what a blessing your life has been.

We do not ask for wonder. That’s the magic.

Wonder comes when we, if only for a moment, let ourselves free.