Ossining, NY

Reloving America Summer 2013: On the Hudson River

This is my summer of re-love. I have returned to the United States for a mere two months, as I have done each summer since I relocated to Bologna, Italy three years ago. And I have been gifted a unique opportunity to be a tourist in my own country in the places that I once took for granted – places that I visited often for my whole life, and places that I lived. New York, Pittsburgh, Washington DC, and Southern California to be exact.


My father always told me that if I wanted to understand my relationship with a place I lived or a place I loved, I need to leave that place for some time before I can really have a good perspective on that place. Boy, was he right.
Every year that I have returned to America I have had a new perspective on it. But this summer is different. This summer is the summer that I have finally understood and accepted these places into my heart and how my connection to these places is forever embedded into my hard-wiring. And I am returning and truly appreciating everything, even the bad.


My first stop since arriving in America this summer is New York. My father’s side of the family immigrated to New York in the early 1900’s and lived in Brooklyn. My godmother and godfather moved out of the city decades ago to a tiny city along the Hudson River called Ossining.


The snapshot above is my favorite on my trip this far. Taken on the bank of the Hudson river, I am at left with my godmother Suzanne on the right, who is a second mother to me. In the picture below, thirty-three years ago, my godmother is holding me in almost the exact same spot where we are standing above on the bank of the Hudson River.

suzanne_peg
Me and my godmother enjoying the Hudson sunset in 1980.

To think of everything that has happened in the 33 years since this picture was taken is pretty overwhelming. But this beautiful place is the same as it has always been, to me at least. Just an hour’s train ride from Grand Central Terminal, this other world of rolling hills and majestic lake views is sometimes easier to get to than Brooklyn. I realize I am lucky to have this beautifulness in my life, a place my dad has gone back to for decades, and a place my godmother still calls home. But I think we all have these beautiful places in our memories and in our hearts that are part of what makes us who we are. Sometimes it just takes some time to re-love them again.

Illustrious Instants: A summer storm in New York

Today I experienced that moment – that unmistakable moment – when my sunny carefree Sunday suddenly got kicked up a notch.  The sky overloaded with giant, moving grey clouds, the wind began to kick my hair around, and that hot, sticky world that normally consumes me the second I leave home or work suddenly went away and what came instead was a chill and an unmistakable sense of foreboding.


But somehow, I didn’t mind.  Just like all the other people at the Boat House restaurant in Ossining, NY, didn’t mind.  Why not?  What is so magical about a summer storm?  The unexpectedness of the experience?  The visual drama?  The weather?

We could barely see through the raindrops on the window to the storm just on the other side.


In my former corner of the world in the south of California, summer storms are nearly non-existent.  So my fond memories of these experiences all come from my summers spent in New York City.  To me, summer rain IS New
York City.  The drama, the smell, and the temporary urgency fleetingly catapult me back in time fifteen years to walking to acting class on the lower west side of Manhattan in July and racing for cover under the nearest overhang, only to discover four construction workers doing the exact same thing who subsequently became my new best friends.


A study in contrasts, a summer storm is all at once overbearingly dramatic, yet not in the slightest bit threatening.  The torrential wind and downpour is dramatic but warm, and somehow, not dangerous.  There is a universal understanding that this storm will be over soon, and life will go on as before.  In fact, life will even be a little more bearable with that slight breeze in the air, a cleaner city, and humidity washed away with the storm.

My aunt, Suzanne DeChillo, snapped this photo of me taking pictures just after the storm.


Today I experienced the magic of the summer storm from a perfect vantage point – front row seats at the picture window facing the Croton Bay at the Boat House restaurant in Ossining, NY.  Guests sitting just outside the window on the patio ran inside for cover in a fit of temporary hysteria – hair flying, makeup running, food drenched.
But my family and I sat inside, dry and entertained, and relished the beauty of the moment.  These moments that I cherish, that I rarely experienced in my life in the west.

The ocean is deceptively calm.


These photos are of the end and the aftermath of the storm.  And what a reward it was to discover the bay like this.  Just a short train ride from Grand Central Station, this place instead feels worlds apart from the bustle of the city.  The perfect place to relish a summer storm.