There was a period from 1999 to 2001 when I spent maybe 75 to 100 days a year there. I felt less like a visitor than a resident. So the city -- or the memory of it, at least -- has long had a magical sort of hold on me.
This visit, though, wasn't quite the same. I don't know why, but it just didn't blow me away like it used to do. It didn't feel ... magical, for some reason. Maybe it was the neighborhood. Tribeca is great in many ways, but a little more rough-edged than some other areas. A little less "neighborhoody," maybe.
Or maybe it was because my time was crowded with family obligations. (Though I did pack a lot in -- Brooklyn Bridge, WTC site, High Line, Guggenheim, Central Park, Upper West Side ...)
Maybe it's just funny tricks your memories play on you. I would hate to think I'm losing my ability to be awed.