On a hungover morning a walk down by the piers on the East River I stopped to smell the flowers. One giant blossom caught my eye – a bloom bigger than my open palm surrounded by a cluster of just-about-to-burst buds weighed down heavy by the rain. Such arresting everyday beauty inspired a deep, deep morning breath.
I almost wish I could have captured that moment, bottled it and saved it for later. I think I’ll need it then too.