Two blocks west of my apartment sits the Hudson River. In the warmer months, it's the perfect backdrop for a long run on the edge of Manhattan, curving past piers and a pool of sunlight dissolving into glass. It is the odd lot of the New Yorker that this view is more New Jersey than our own city, a false reflection of home (with no offense meant to our neighbors). The real luck is across the water, the bridges, the tunnels, or high above it all, behind a storied window or framed by clouds and light from a plane that is coming or going. Perspective is so valuable in a city like this.

Sometimes you have to get out to get it.