My brother came to visit me today in the City of Honks (a name he suggested, just for variety.)
The sun was out, and my neighborhood was especially busy today, so we maneuvered through crowds browsing the market tables set up on the sidewalks. After a tropical lunch of Dominican food (plantains and avocado amid posters for baseball games) we set out to the park.
The wind was much colder in the late afternoon. The sun was just making the edge of the sky blush over the river when we arrived. We were trying to get to the opposite end of the park, but the paths were closed, and we tramped over the hills instead. Our feet crunched through the ice, breaking deep into the layers of snow, and our laughter crackled in the air.
We stopped to watch some squirrels eating seed against a stone wall. They dug their faces into the snow and pranced. They came up to us, almost sniffing our cuffs. Then they went back to their seed.
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