I've been buying Woodchuck Cider, I've been dreaming about cider donuts or something, anything with maple syrup, and I've been hallucinating the changing of leaves on the few trees emerging from the concrete in my neighborhood.
Red Hook is unique. Unlike the fashion-drenched Manhattan and Williamsburg, Red Hook is filled with studios, woodshops, and furniture designers which means I see more dirty shirts and loose fitting, worn-out jeans or carharts than I see fashionably tight pants, heels, and chic haricuts.
During most of the day you don't hear cars passing by blasting bass. Plenty of trucks drive along the road below, creaking and bouncing as they hit bumps in the road, but the most you'll hear is the soft "shhhhh" of the wheels and an occasional car alarm. The silence between the cars sounds like Vermont. The 68º breeze feels like Vermont. And just as I type this, someone has parked below my apartment blasting Maroon 5.
It's time for a fall vacation.