histories

I walked up to the far northern tip of Manhattan this morning to meet an old and dear friend at the train station. It was cold, which came as no surprise given the winter we've been having this year. I was expecting the cold, but I wasn't expecting quite how warm and fuzzy it felt to walk back home with her in the cold winter light. It'd been a couple months since we saw each other last, and though we've emailed, there's just no replacement for getting caught up in explaining recent woes only to have someone so dear turn to you and say, "I know. I've been wondering about that..."

I forget, sometimes, the beauty in keeping our histories -- and the people who carry them, who have lived them with us -- close to our present selves. I've been reminded of this a lot in the last couple of weeks, and am very grateful for it.

Then she let me dress her up and take these pictures. Over all, it's been a pretty good day.

 tussah silk scarf cowl thing