Autumn in New York

Dear Nana,

It's one of those perfect New York City days in early fall. As I sit at my computer and look out the window onto Third Avenue, I watch the first red, brown, and orange victims of fall's coming frolic with one another on the ground, lifted by the wind and tossed along the concrete. The sky a pristine blue, unblemished by a single cloud. Cool air sneaks into the open window and reminds me that winter coats and scarves are not so long off.

You remember these kinds of days, don't you? Days perfect for strolling in Manhattan. Days made for a jaunt by the East River, nostrils flared as you suck in the glorious smell of leaves and smokiness and a touch of faroff ocean air. Days where there is no better place in the world to be but New York City.

It is Saturday afternoon, the last Saturday in September. I'm going to head out soon, so this letter will be a short one. But perhaps I'll walk by your old apartment as I often do. I'll look up at your 6th floor window on East End Avenue and I'll bet, if I look hard enough, I might just see you there, head leaning out the open dining room window, sun streaming onto your face, eyes sparkling, mouth curled up in the most genuine smile. You'll wave down to me on the sidewalk as you always did and, together we will take a deep breathe, inhaling the sweet and smoky scent of autumn in New York.
Love, Katie