The importance of city sunsets

This weekend was a typical blur for a person with an office job and small children. There was per usual a mountain of house chores to do, events to take the children to, and hours of each day dedicated to the day job, as our day jobs spread their tentacles into every aspect of our lives. On top of that add grocery shopping.

Sunday I took one of my daughters with me while we went grocery shopping. She helped me find things in the store and took pride in helping me load things into the cart. We navigated the crowded aisles and found everything on our list (with some extra popcorn and coffee thrown in for good measure).

We were running down the clock toward dinner time and I knew I had a full wagon of groceries to get upstairs and away before either I or my wife had to make dinner.

We made good time and were parked outside our building a few minutes after I had returned our shopping cart. I sat at the driver’s seat for a few minutes, trying to calculate in my head the things I needed to accomplish in the next few minutes: getting my daughter out of her car seat, loading up the groceries, cleaning out part of the car quickly between those two steps, getting the groceries away, making dinner, getting logged back in at work—

“Daddy, look at the sunset,” my daughter told me.

Through the trees and the power lines and shadows of nearby buildings, a patch of brilliant dusk sunset filled the sky with its pastel vision. It had been there the whole time, going unappreciated by me.

It was a testament to the excellence of children. They have not had years to become jaded or distracted with the compounded stresses of the mundane. It was a reminder of how grateful I ought to be for my family and my life. 

When we think of New York’s beauty we usually picture its stunning skyline, its aged paving stones and its tributes to achievement wrought in stone or glass; the urban landscape is beautiful but almost always bears the mark of a human hand. Even the most gorgeous parts of our most popular parks were put there by design.

This outlook often neglects the natural beauty that surrounds, us, and the fiery sky of an autumn sunset has few rivals of natural scale in our Gotham’s vision.

And so often in the execution of our ambitious dreams, the wonder of life itself gets lost in the shuffle. Having kids won’t bring the same reward if we can’t pass on an appreciation of beautiful things. Without the ability to stop and look at the greatness around you, are we succeeding in life at all?

I opened the passenger door so my daughter could get a better look at the brilliant sky, and took a photo so I could remember this and show her later. I made a silent vow to remember our sunsets, and make the time to take in the natural beauty that surrounds us, even in the densest cityscape.

Bring on the Autumn

You can feel and taste the encroaching fall, and I’m ready for it. I can’t stand the summer heat, especially in the city. There are too many people and buildings and busses around to make summer pleasant in the city. Everyone does what they can to take a break and leave the city in the summer. You need to, just for your own sanity. This week has been nice and not too hot, almost spring-like in its temperature. Tomorrow it is supposed to be back in the 90s, the city summer we all know and dislike.

                I make a point to try to go for a short walk every afternoon on my lunch break. I take too long to walk through the parks, gawk behind my sunglasses at the scantily-clad tourist women babbling in their European languages, enjoy the view of the harbor, or just walk through the park for the satisfaction of walking through the park when I’m supposed to be behind a desk. Too often I take the same path though. It becomes too routine when you take the same path every day. I need to switch things up, maybe go by the water more and look out at the harbor and enjoy the breeze.

            Sunsets are better this time of year. There’s a brilliant blue-maroon hue to the twilight that doesn’t appear the same in the other seasons. It is those transitional times that are the most brilliant, the most poetic. The blue night that gives way to the dawn and the pre-sun dawn are the most beautiful times to be awake, even if you’re bleary-eyed and tired.

            Once we get through tomorrow, I’m hoping we can say goodbye to 90-degree weather for the rest of the year. There’s usually at least one bad Indian summer (or is that Native American Summer, is that also racist too?) in September, one last lash of the cruel sun before the comfort of a cool autumn.