It has been an interesting summer so far. The disconcerting global weather, the awe inspiring New Horizons Pluto flyby, the start of the run-up to the presidential nomination race (by turns fascinating, depressing, and hilarious), the tumult of the EU-Greece drama, and so much more. It makes you feel hopeful and discouraged all at once.

The world whizzes on, but here in New York things are slower in the summer. Quieter. The city always seems to slumber this time of year. Even with the tourists, New York depopulates in the summer. With so many people seeking refuge up the coast or out on Long Island, those of us who remain have the place to ourselves. Granted, our prize is sticky, hot, and often quite smelly, but there’s nothing I love more than New York in the summer.

It’s a wonderful time for writing, too. One can hunker in the air conditioning during the middle of the day, typing like mad, then venture out for inspiration in the evening. Walks in the park with a melting ice cream offer time for contemplation. There are lectures (I went to one last week on facing the engineering challenges of searching for Earth-like planets around other stars) and classes, museums, shows, concerts in the park, or just strolling the city’s neighborhoods, watching the human drama unfold.

It’s like New York takes a Valium this time of year and everything feels possible but not too urgent. Dreamy.

The temperature is over 90 out there today, so I think I’ll pull the shades and write. But later…later there will be ice cream on the stoop while I watch the city go by.