Today as I was walking, the sun was shining just enough to surround the living with an unoffensive light and warm the air particles trapped in between the buildings of New York.  There was a breeze that was not gentle, but not forceful either.  It was not the kind that slowly pushes your hair out of your face only to lightly let it fall back into position.  It was not the kind that seems to caress your cheeks as it passes on by.  It was not the kind that comes at you with the desperation of resistance, like the feeling when holding your breath and it feels like your lungs are pushing into every corner of space that is in your entire being.  It was not the kind that hits like a speeding bus or an express train.  Instead, the wind was the energy lying dormant in the haunch of a stalking lion.  It was the anxious nerves of a child hiding behind a door waiting for the next unsuspecting person to pass by as the victim of his surprise.  I could feel the expectancy, the suspense, all around me.  I felt I was part of a birthday surprise party, jittery in the darkness waiting for the person to turn on the lights.  The scent of anticipation was everywhere and the whole world was holding its breath- the only problem was, I didn't know what for.