I was in love with New York. I do not mean “love” in any colloquial way, I mean that I was in love with the city, the way you love the first person who ever touches you and you never love anyone quite that way again.
I remember walking across Sixty-second Street one twilight that first spring, or the second spring, they were all alike for a while.
I was late to meet someone, but I stopped at Lexington Avenue and bought a peach and stood on the corner eating it, and knew that I had come out of the West and reached the mirage.
I could taste the peach and feel the soft air blowing from a subway grating on my legs, and I could smell lilac and garbage and expensive perfume and I knew that it would cost something sooner or later.
- Joan Didion, 1967
photos via ffffound