taste of fall
Taste of Fall September tastes like apple cider in New York City. I walked through Central Park in 5am darkness that pricked with the first bite of winter’s warning. Not as hard as what was said last night. No one goes to the park this early. There’s me, a clan of serial joggers, a few cyclists and a couple of homeless people. I’m here because I have dogs. I have dogs because they get me out of the house. And it’s important for me to get...