In Hoboken, New Jersey, there is a hill. Whenever we have snow, the town and their children all gather there to sled, snowboard and inner-tube until they are so cold, only a hot chocolate can warm them up. The hill is spectacularly set high on a bluff overlooking the Hudson river, with the skyscrapers of midtown Manhattan looming in the distance. In fairer weather, this bench would be the perfect place to sit and ponder. I took this because I felt as though the bench was already calling my name.