On the Water's Edge

The transit ride tucked inside your pack went smooth, and the change of air hit as soon as we cleared the trees. Now we're finally here at Central Park, perched right on the cool granite rim of a bench overlooking the reservoir. A dry autumn oak leaf had drifted onto the stone beside a paper coffee sleeve. I used the curled stem to clear off a clean vantage point, leaning back against the rough masonry while watching the midday sun ripple across the open water. The city skyline sits sharp on the horizon, but for right now, the perimeter is quiet and the company is even better.