Remembering New York.

When September 11th became a day we'd never forget, I had yet to be to New York. I could tell you exactly what I was doing the moment we heard the news of tragedy hitting that city years ago. And I'm sure you could too. Just as generations before can tell us exactly where they were the minute they heard that Kennedy was shot. Or the day Pearl Habor was struck. How much tragedy there is in this nation's history, yet how much strength and community we have when the events we wish never occurred happen. 

This past January, we went to New York City. My very first time in the Big Apple. And, boy, how I loved the fast paced culture, the late night meals, and the tight knit streets that create a graph paper like grid on the maps we learned to walk everywhere with. New York City, and that trip, is one I will never forget. And so, today, as we remember what the words "nine eleven" elect in our senses and deep down in our hearts, I want to close my eyes and never forget this place, the community I experienced, and the strength of our nation. 

We spent time at the 9/11 Memorial when we were there. It's unreal to stand where the Twin Towers used to be, even my first time in New York, so I can't even imagine what it is like for someone who knew this place inside and out before the towers were hit. To lose such a big part of a city, to lose so many people who made this community what it was, and is - I cannot fully fathom. The owner of the hotel we stayed at told us how he remembers standing on the roof and watching that very day. I'd imagine people all over the city were doing this, if they weren't right in the tragedy themselves. Tears streaming down their faces, hearts in their stomachs, watching from rooftops and windows. 

The people that were lost at this very spot, although I don't know the faces behind the names and the moments that made up each and every one of their lives, were so loved. They are remembered beautifully at the 9/11 Memorial - if you ever are in New York, the Memorial is so worth making time for. Today I am thinking of those who lost someone that day, and praying for the families and the city. 

(more from our New York trip back in January here: Coney Island, Brooklyn to Manhattan, Williamsburg Flea, Grand Central Station, House of Small Wonder, Ace Hotel)

From Brooklyn to Manhattan

One overcast day in January, we walked from Brooklyn to Manhattan. Nearing sunset, the light made greens and grays off in the distance stand out amongst the collection of buildings and the brick, steel, and wooden slats contrast against the light sky above and moving wheels below. That day, for the very first time, I saw New York City from the outside looking in. 

Read more about our New York Adventures here: Grand Central Station, A Grey Morning at Coney Island, House of Small Wonder, To Being Adventurers, The Brooklyn Flea. 

Brooklyn | House of Small Wonder

Perhaps my favorite part of traveling is stumbling upon the unexpected. One morning, we hopped on the L train to Brooklyn, where we spent the morning walking the streets of Brooklyn Heights, then weaved up and down streets in DUMBO, before we eventually planned to cross back into Manhattan via the Brooklyn Bridge. Before the bridge, though, hunger called. 

Yelp was the best tool ever, while in New York. We hadn't really made plans to stop for lunch in Brooklyn, and thought we'd find a market where we could quickly buy granola bars and waters. But when Yelp suggested a place called House of Small Wonder, I literally couldn't help but wonder. We had to go there. And so, we found this tiny little cafe, which felt more like the green house of Ernest Hemingway, and enjoyed lattes, soup, and sandwiches.

Everything from the little pink pigs placed in the terrariums, to the typewriters and hand lettering on signs and menus--this cafe was the embodiment of adorable. Brooklyn was a favorite of mine in New York, for reasons like this restaurant, and there are still so many more places we just loved that I'll be photo-logueing in this mini-series of our travels. So far we've been to Coney Island, Grand Central Station, and The Brooklyn Flea. What about you? Any favorite NY stops?

Grand Central Station

This post is part of a series, where I photo-logue the nooks and crannies we adventured through while in New York...One morning, we took the subway straight from grey and cold, but beautifully eerie, Coney Island to Grand Central Station--where golden hues and turquoise ceiling tops danced with black silhouettes darting against time, and magic whisper tunnels awaited traveling secrets.

Doesn't it feel like a whimsical place? Like something big and important is going to happen at any moment, especially with the light of the windows and the ceiling constellations, and the nod to Winter's Tale? It might not be a little known secret anymore, but right next to the Oyster Bar (which our friends say is ah-mazing, by the way) there is a whisper gallery. If one person stands on the opposite side of the arch from you, and you turn and talk into the wall, you can so clearly hear the other person. If you're in New York, and in need of whimsy and warmth (and have secrets to tell) get on your way to Grand Central Station.

A Grey Morning at Coney Island

With so many adventures had in New York this past week, I'll be doing a mini series to capture and document my favorite parts of our trip. It seems wrong to just clump everything together in one photo-logue (besides, that would be the longest post everrrr) as each day was filled to the brim with so many wonderful moments. The posts will be interspersed, but my hope is to share all the nooks and crannies we enjoyed oh-so-much, and I hope you enjoy looking back on a few of my favorite stops along our journey in the big city as well!

Coney Island has always had this air of mysterious nostalgia when I've pictured it, like the way you feel after watching Tom Hanks in Big, or the oddity of circus side shows, and the lingering history of the people who trapes in and out on this old boardwalk, with its 100 year old ferris wheel. As if Coney Island wasn't a bit eery enough on winter's day, with its closed up doors, starkly still rides, grey atlantic coast, desolate boardwalk, and whispers of gulls off in the distance--on a day where snow goes from hail then to rain, leaving a damp wooden planks as the perfect reflector of the bright paint, vintage signs, and light posts, it becomes even more mysterious, just begging you to peek around corners, peer closely through fences, and imagine what stories lie beneath it all. 

I like to imagine what it was like, to visit this place, when it first became. Beach goers not to be seen in a swimsuit, as that was so taboo. Side shows with the hairiest lady, or the man who swallows fire, or the bend-able acrobat dare-deviling his way across tight ropes and through suspended hoops--"enter if you dare, for a penny, to see it all" they'd say. Ice-cream cones with simple flavors, street music with accordions, and hot dogs of course. And how people came from all over just to ride to the very top of the wheel, and oh the view, how simply breath-taking it was to a Coney Island goer in 1920. 

One week ago today, we woke up and hopped on the subway straight to Coney Island. The few hours of exploring ended with a cup of coffee and a late breakfast hotdog at the World Famous Nathan's. It was the best way to spend that beautifully grey Saturday morning in New York. Firsts for me, on this adventure: The trip to Coney, hotdogs before 11 a.m., and the beach at 20 degrees.