Head down, braving the coming cold, I trudged through the morning commute, taking my new route through the World Financial Center.

Of most days, today was one that I just wanted to run through and get over with. I have a cold, probably about to turn into a sinus infection. And with the end of DST, it's painfully obvious the summer is really over.

Then I saw her. There's a small square of grass surrounded by trees and bushes, much like the tens of other small 'parks' that have been springing up on desolate expanses of concrete in the city ever since someone figured out that green trees and grass are nicer to see than black garbage bags oozing putrid liquids piled up all over the place.

But she stood there, at least 80 years old, waving her arms back and forth in slow, rhythmic movements. Tai Chi.

She was so at peace, eyes closed, not a line of concern on her face. Effortlessly, her body flowed movement into form.

I slowed my pace, straightened my body, and felt oddly calmed.