I told someone the other night that I like to notice things.
I’m pretty sure he laughed when I told him that.
Don’t we all notice things?
But I like to really notice things.
To notice so deeply that it makes me smile, even just to myself.
To notice so intensely that life seems to pause… to breathe.
The beautiful things.
The not-so-pretty things.
The things that other people pass by.
This weekend, I’ve noticed.
And boy, is noticing fun in this city.
Take my word for it, it just is.
The joy of running through leaves just north of the reservoir in Central Park.
The three “go blue” chants I heard while running today (I was wearing my Michigan tee).
The regulars at my Starbucks on the corner.
The glowing red “Hotel Empire” sign I pass every night on my walk home.
The autumn breeze while sitting down at a local joint and drinking a glass of wine next to an open window.
The people who walk like they’ve got somewhere to be, a new adventure they’re running 5 minutes late for.
The guitarist playing love songs on the Central Park Bow Bridge.
The smell of cinnamon and honey roasted almonds just outside the grocery store.
The thrill of cooking homemade chili in a crockpot for the first-time.
The pain of paying rent each month, but knowing that every single cent is worth it.
Those very special, insignificant things.