I recently read E.B. White’s Here is New York wherein he argues there are roughly three New Yorks - New York for the born and bred, New York for the commuter and New York for “the person who was born elsewhere and came to New York in quest of something.”

“Of these three trembling cities,” writes White, “the greatest is the last - the city of final destination, the city that is the goal.” These stalwart locals, it seems, account for New York’s insatiable ambition, its unparalleled achievements.

But what happens when daily life in New York City is just daily life? When soaring skyscrapers (daring feats of skyward ambition!) merely serve as backdrops to errands — running groceries, seeing the dentist, etc. — and staying put becomes easier than leaving?

I moved to New York five years ago, and there’s so many reasons I want to stay, chief among them is the city’s zesty entrepreneurial spirit. After traveling to more than 20 countries in the last decade, I’m so grateful for the opportunity to call this city home.

I’ll be the first to admit that there’s an enchantment to everyday life in New York—an unspoken promise that something extraordinary is just around the corner (for those who have the eyes to see it).

The city’s pulse a constant hum, its streets an endless stream of movement, New York is a magnet for dreamers, doers, and the wild-eyed.

Which begs the question: Does the city ever lose its magic?

For me, for now, the answer is no. The reason? This morning’s sunrise lit the brick buildings outside my window in the most delicious shades of pink and I felt like I was seeing the city for the first time.

Later, I walked over to my favorite bakery, picked up a treat and parked myself outside with a book while the baby peacefully napped in her stroller. Lo and behold, an audacious little sparrow dove in for my prized possession and snatched my chocolate croissant from the table!

Before I knew it, the barista emerged with a new croissant in hand like it was just a part of the routine. I loved that.

Then there’s the time I left my phone on the bus, and the driver went out of his way to bring it back to me on the return trip—when it could’ve easily vanished into the abyss of the lost and found. I loved that, too.

Or the businessman who helped me get the stroller up the subway stairs without a word, never once peeling away from his phone conversation. The task was completely second nature to him, part of his unspoken duty as a city dweller to help simply because we co-exist.

My months are filled with small moments like that. This, in turn, makes me wonder if people who assume New York is too big to be neighborly don’t realize that the sense of community is the biggest perk of living here.

As anyone who’s lived in New York knows, it isn’t always about the grand gestures or latest trend. It’s the quiet persistence of the city, the way it keeps pushing, keeps evolving, keeps finding new ways to remind you that, yes, this is a place where anything can happen.

The city’s unquantifiable magic emerges in unexpected moments, in simply being part of this great city. The magic is never really gone—it’s simply waiting to be noticed again.

New York, I love you too much.

See you next Wednesday!

Antonina