Sunday afternoon in Little Italy.

Yesterday we headed down to Little Italy for afternoon coffee and an early dinner at Parm. And I'm still kind of fascinated by how the city continues to surprise me. Impress me. Remind me that I am a thread in the fabric of Manhattan - a fabric that has been torn and mended many times before I got here, and will go through countless cycles of change when I leave it.

I sat down to dinner with a friend on Friday night and talked about age and time and their continual escape from our grasp. The love and fear of time is such an integral part of life everywhere, but I think time's elusiveness consumes us all the more in cities that seem to evolve right before our eyes. We never fully master time; we're driven by its slow, steady creep. But goodness, how I hold moments with such clarity when I walk down these torn and mended streets, resonating with their echoes of life.