The winds shifted yesterday, from the foul warm winds of the west to a seasonable and variable wind of a cooler sort. The morning felt like summer, but the early afternoon seemed like fall.
I've been blown along these breezes, strolling the boulevards of broken dreams. Unable to focus after the Yankees' loss to Cleveland, I took a few walks along some favorite streets. Walking down certain roads can be as soothing as eating comfort foods, I have found. Walking south on Mulberry, for example, can substitute for a big ole helping of blueberry pie.
Yesterday's consoling streets included Henry St. in Brooklyn Heights and Barrow, Bedford, and Commerce in the West Village. Today, as I plan to speed my way through all the stages of grief, I may visit Nassau St. or W. 11th St., two other favorites.
Or I may visit one of several other streets that I do not wish to reveal to you right now.
I am researching a new walk, one that readers have requested, and I want to be alone.