City Memories from a Bread Box

I saw a beautiful dove in the middle of a New York City street. From the sidewalk, I gasped as cars zoomed past. Would they hit the dove?

Car after car missed the dove. I stood still, watching and willing the dove to move to the edge of the street where it would be safe.

Finally, it waddled toward me. The dove stopped in the gutter and pecked at a discarded pizza crust.

“No, Jenny,” I thought, “this is not a dove, a pure symbol of peace. This is just a pigeon, even if it happens to be white.”

During my first New York City summer, I was suspicious of the Mister Softee truck. I grew up in Oregon, where ice cream trucks sell only packaged ice cream bars and ice pops. Now, here were trucks selling soft-serve ice cream cones.

Isn’t that weird? Can they even do that? I must have walked past Mister Softee trucks a dozen times, with sidelong glances at the menu. When I gave in, I tried a chocolate ice cream cone with rainbow sprinkles.

No, it’s not weird, I decided. Yes, they can certainly do that! That summer, I tried chocolate cones with peanuts, with cherry dipped-cone coating, and plain. All are delicious (and plain is cheaper), but rainbow sprinkles are the best.

This blog post was inspired by the prologue of Bigger than a Bread Box, by Laurel Snyder.  

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