Along Lexington and Park, the street vendors have multiplied and traffic has thickened. The offices have let loose a miraculous profusion of people, like spiders bursting from an egg sac. After suffering through the near endless angst of winter, New York has found its reason to be.
On my lunch hour, I walked east through a wash of white noise and jackhammering along 47th Street, where I discovered a bar called Snafu, a tiny farmers market, and a statue entitled Good Defeats Evil.* The stretch of 1st Avenue in front of the U.N. was being repaved and smelled like tar.
Flesh was noticeably absent. Whereas I suspect SoHo is a study in the inverse relationship of skirt lengths and necklines, the streets around Grand Central seemed filled with businessmen carrying their suit jackets, their sleeves rolled to their forearms.
Spring has come late and on unsteady legs, but it has come. Such are our joys and concerns on a Wednesday at the end of April.
* In which Good is apparently some sort of Greek warrior wielding a cross-shaped staff against Evil, a sea creature partially made of ballistic rocket parts.
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