Up on the Roof

Tonight I was hanging out on the roof of my father's apartment building, the building I grew up in, with my daughter and my niece who are both seven. We were taking in the view of the east river and the Manhattan skyline; a view that is beyond familiar yet never ceases to startle me. The skyline with all of its million lights on, the activity of the boats and the aircraft, and just being high up above the harbor where two big rivers meet is a view I can stare at endlessly and not get tired. We stared for a while. There was a warm but very strong west wind blowing that made us open our arms and laugh and we felt like we were standing at the front of a big ship. We sat down and looked up at the crescent moon and tried to decide which were stars and which planes. We watched a police helicopter circle very low to the water. We talked about the world and the universe, the sun and the moon, and how you never know if you are on top or on the bottom of earth. We laughed so hard at this and other cosmic questions that it reminded me of being stoned with high school friends up on the same roof thirty (yes thirty) years ago. But hanging out with two seven year old girls was much more fun.