I spent most of October in New York City. I’ve been there lots of times, but only for snippets — a weekend, an overnight. Living and working there opened my eyes to a whole new perspective. Looking up at the skyline as I walked the mile to work and back every day was like viewing a giant Etch A Sketch picture — layers upon layers of horizontal and vertical lines, cubes and smaller cubes punctuated by light and shadows. I didn’t have time to see half the art I wanted to see in NYC, but I’m thankful for the chance to be exposed to such grandeur and architectural lushness. Mostly, though, it was the people there who left me in wonder. Loud, quiet, rich, poor, dark, light, joyful, sorrowful. More than anything, I wish I could say thank you to one man in particular — the man in the hoodie with the soft Spanish accent who helped me up off the pavement one morning after I took a really hard fall (because I was looking up at the building tops instead of where I was going). If you ever happen to be reading this, your kind words and gentleness as you lifted me back to my feet meant the world and renewed my belief that people are kind. Especially New Yorkers.