Friday, June 17, 2005

When I was young, I said to my mum, "Are those hills in the distance America?"


I have just been able to spend a day in reflection. I have always done this around nature. When I was younger, working in Somerset I would often drive a few miles out of my way to Glastonbury Tor, climb it's 900ft and sit and reflect upon whatever may be on my mind. I would look out across the Somerset Levels, See Wales in the distance and generally just bask in the magical Land of Arthur.
Yesterday I was fortunate enough to get 3 hours to kill in the middle of the day. After a haircut and a new watch strap, I wandered over to Prospect park. Wandering as only a man who has no real cares but just a thousand things to do, wandering as one whose primary concern is avoiding the irrational summer storms.
I entered through the Third street entrance and was suddenly transformed into an amazing place. The park, Prospect park, was virtually deserted. As I strolled from Third street, through the Ravine to the Audebon centre I must have seen maybe twenty souls, all a bit like me, wandering through the park not quite realising how this place (amazing and gorgeous at any time ) was so damned beautiful. The clouds were chasing across the sky, rain fell here and there causing us to seek shelter under broad leafed trees and in between the sun shot through onto the meadows and ballfields.
My favourite moment was when I took to sharing a bench with Brooklyn's oldest couple. I though they were visitors to the Borough as they seemed a bit too Norman Rockwell for this part of town but nonetheless they were easily 107 years old and so very much in love. With walking canes and hands held together they sat near me and we exchanged pleasantries about the park and the weather. They were clearly familiar with the park so my inital doubts about their origins were muted (guess we do get WASPS in Brooklyn). Then, as another rainstorm passed and clear skies broke through I heard him say to her "Come on Honey, let's go chase some sun".
I really want us to be like them when we grow up.

3 comments:

weasel said...

This post is like a pleasant park, all of its own; very nice.

"Wandering as only a man who has no real cares but just a thousand things to do"- you've always been better at this than me.

As for Brooklyn's oldest couple I hope one day that it will be you and Mrs. Mondale sitting on the park bench, only to have me call you and rant in my elderly voice about the latest football scores.

Listmaker said...

i really need to spend more time in new york's assorted parks this summer instead of hanging around my apt. wasting time on fantasy baseball and blogging.

Debbie said...

I like parks.