Me on a morning run back on the West Side Highway stopping to pose with the lady herself.

I have to admit, this spring has started a little differently for me than I’m used to. Normally, I’m kicking off my winter boots in full force, testing the weather to see if I can get away going to work without tights on and practically prancing around city streets when cafes finally start putting their tables back outside. Sidewalk cafe culture is a real thing, people, and it’s amazing.

And usually, all of this takes place in New York. Where I lived for the previous five springs {and summers, falls and winters, too}. I’m having a bit of nostalgia for a different time where I walked down the street and could hear cabs honking as they raced down Carmine Street {I never understood this — it was only two blocks long in its entirety} and could sample eight different types of cheese at Murray’s while getting a full lesson on each before selecting just a few to serve my friends later that night back at my apartment. I miss the bizarre street festivals that would pop up on Sixth Avenue for the entire Saturday, halting all traffic and bringing so many people out to buy roasted corn on the cob and sliced up watermelon. Playing endless rounds of ping pong at The Standard on Sunday afternoons after too many bellinis over brunch at Paradou. Morning runs on the West Side Highway with One World Trade Center and Lady Liberty in full view. Even my old super who used to wish me a good day at work every single morning, and comment on tomorrow’s expected weather every single evening. I miss the electricity of the city; it’s like the street grids worked as surging energy lines that fueled the endless hustle of its people.

Instead of rushing through the hard feelings, I’m trying to let myself just experience them. I’m growing to love London with its charming streets and poised demeanor. New restaurants are opening all the time, and goodness are they incredible. I love the different themes and cultural influences that flow into each. I love that we’re known by name in our corner pub The Mall Tavern — and they usually have a table waiting for us on Sunday afternoons for roast. The museums with jaw dropping permanent collections, and experiencing limited time exhibitions. The champagne and towers of scones that come with a special afternoon tea. The ease at which we can travel to other countries is obviously unparalleled {Italy next weekend — counting down the days to tasty gelato}. And the many family and friends that have plans in the coming months to see our new home together.

So London is winning me over slowly but surely, but I would be remiss if I didn’t say I have been longing for the city. My city. My New York. I’ve heard Londoners know how to enjoy good weather, and it doesn’t really rain here as often as people think {I swear it’s only six days a week}. So bring on the Pimm’s and outdoor pubs, lounging in Hyde Park and runs with my husband, international travels and dinner parties with friends. London, I’m ready to make some new memories. Let’s hear it for spring.

B picking me up at Heathrow after flying to meet him in London. The sign says it all.