Adirondack Mountains camping trip

周末出去郊游，仿佛又回到学生时代。
牛仔裤，sweatshirt, 素面朝天. 小木屋，枫叶，篝火，一切自然简单。
我戴着牙箍双颊生疼，因而有些垂头丧气。却那么庆幸有身边好友一路同行，各有所长，但是步调一致--无论是斗嘴胡闹还是生火做饭，都感觉大家时刻互相照应互相配合，其间还欢笑不断。
每次遇上真诚热情的人，我都心存感激。

公路上飞驰的车子里，看过一面面镜湖，看过层层变红的青山，时而晴，时而雨，时而起雾。想像着穿越时空，亲历季节的更替。iPod里shuffle不同的歌，想起上一季的人与事，感觉好像发生在上个世纪。既然与自然那么贴近，就让时间的手轻轻翻过那一页，好好收藏起来。

上一次见到枫叶那么兴奋，念着“人烟寒橘柚，秋色老梧桐”还是大一的十月，转眼已经在这个国度第六个秋了。

Pix at http://picasaweb.google.com/ruoyangyin/AdirondackCampingTrip#

The New York of You and Me

On my subway ride home tonight, I was just randomly looking up to one of those Barnes and Noble literature ads, and I stumbled upon a passage that immediately struck me:

There are roughly three New Yorks. There is, first, the New York of the man or woman who was born there, who takes the city for granted and accepts its size, its turbulence as natural and inevitable. Second, there is the New York of the commuter--the city that is devoured by locusts each day and spat out each night. Third, there is New York of the person who was born somewhere else and came to New York in quest of something. Of these trembling cities the greatest is the last--the city of final destination, the city that is a goal. It is this third city that accounts for New York’s high strung disposition, its poetical deportment, its dedication to the arts, and its incomparable achievements. Commuters give the city its tidal restlessness, natives give it solidity and continuity, but the settlers give it passion.

--E.B. White's 1948 essay "Here is New York."