It’s been a beautiful summer this year, very well-deserved after the considerably dreadful winter. (It’s impossible to forget if you were in the city early 2014!) As a person who grew up in the south, I simply can’t have enough of summer, the juicy tropical plants, the colorful prints on the silky top and casual pants, and even the humidity that makes me feel like my composure is deserting me via osmosis in the sweat. Temperature in which nudity should be legal has always been part of my childhood memory. Hence, albeit the refreshing autumn ahead, It was quite sad to acknowledge that it would be the last weekend of summer.
Something comforting to think about is that, we will be in Paris by this time next year. We both agree that this period in between, before our temporary separation from our deeply beloved NYC, should be documented in some way.
“A blog would be a cool way to go.” Such idea came up while we were sipping coffee under a gorgeous big tree one day. The one that looked like the sycamore tree in the movie "Flipped". Thus, there it goes.
"Sycomore" (fr): the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Sy. Co. More. Welcome to our garden.