I have always been highly sensitive to sounds and scents.
To this day, crickets chirping at the end of summer take me to my backyard and playing badminton with my dad. Knowing that the first day of school was near, we would play until it was nearly too dark to see the birdie.
It rained this weekend, and as I walked around the Upper East Side, I was reminded of the scent of spring. I remember smelling a similar scent while I was living in London. It had been three months since moving there, and as the flowers in Regents Park began to bloom, I would open my dorm window and sit on the ledge overlooking the gardens. Sometimes I would read, other times I would listen to music, but most of the time I would think.
I would think about how far I came from being that small town girl in Pennsylvania, to living in a foreign country. And even if it was only for a semester abroad, I knew that I wanted more.
It was six months after moving to New York City in 2004, that I was reminded of spring again. Living just blocks away from the Jaclyn Onassis Reservoir, I remember sitting on a park bench thinking all that I wanted was to live in Manhattan – and there I was making it happen.
A fine mist began to fall as I crossed the street. I saw two young girls who appeared to be new residents to New York, and soon became envious, as the city still seemed unscathed to them. I wondered what small town they were from, what brought them to New York and if they had found it- or maybe, like me, they were still searching.
But, then I thought. My time for change is coming. Spring is in the air.