The trees along this city street,
Save for the traffic and the trains,
Would make a sound as thin and sweet
As trees in country lanes…

Excerpt from Edna St. Vincent Millay, City Trees

It’s still dark when we leave the woods, drive away on our weekend adventure, dogs sitting, sulking near the door, un-walked. It’s not very pleasant to pack with dogs nervously stalking the rooms they want you to stay in – and they wait for the signal, subtle but clear, and it doesn’t come. They are not invited. Their play date will be happy when my daughter comes to take them for the day. But they don’t know that yet. Still, I am happy. I am off to New York City with my husband for a birthday weekend, two plays, a writing conference and more. Frank has calls, so I walk myself from the hotel and back to the Museum of Modern Art for the afternoon – drifting excitedly from room to room in the crowds. Too much to take in: frida kahlo vincent van gogh, gustav klimt mary cassatt louise bourgeois, henri matisse, mark rothko. . . And back to the hotel under a few gold trees. Tonight, to the theatre, the Public Theatre in Greenwich Village to see, in previews, The Michaels, which we really like, from our excellent seats in this intimate theatre - especially the three dances. And, then dessert. Dessert, even, after a day like this! So many sweet indulgences, and more to come.