once a week, chris plays soccer with friends in brooklyn bridge park. i love to sit in the sunshine and watch, with a sweeping view of the skyline, the smell of salt curling off the harbor. his friends call me coach, and i love that they do.
this week, we made a little date of it, arriving early to stroll from the bridge to the piers at the golden hour. we got a close up of martin creed's rotating sculpture, understanding, and said a small prayer of thanks for public art, for the way it elevates our city. we shared a scoop of ample hills' ooey gooey butter cake and saluted the regal nantucket. we watched the sailboats dotting the water, like pearls on a string.