I have ridden my bike every day since French class began a week and a half ago.  I ride through Central Park with my heavy text books (yes, they’re paperbacks, but they’re BIG paperbacks). Lately I take my laptop in my backpack too so that I can write in the library here at the French Institute.

I love riding my bike in New York City. I love when I forget my helmet and I feel the wind in my hair. I love the beauty of Central Park.

Everyday there is a spot where I have to brace myself for the beauty. That’s when I leave the road and travel briefly on the sidewalk to the exit at 59th. On my right is the pond and I ride over a bridge. Today there was a young Asian woman standing on the slight wall of the bridge. Her arms were outflung and her head was back. As if to say, I own this place. This place of beauty.

Almost every day I ride over that bridge some tourist is photographing a  friend on the bridge. It is the spot. And I get to see it every day.