Friday, April 16, 2010


Drum Circle #1

I spent lovely chunks* of time on Sunday and Monday enjoying my neighborhood parks. Sometimes in the company of friends, and sometimes alone.

(Though never really alone. Because this is New York City and you’re never really alone. Were I to ever find myself in a situation where I was truly alone – no other people in sight – I might become terrified.)

(You may be wondering how this bodes for an introvert such as myself – this state of not ever being alone. It bodes mostly fine, thanks for asking. I’ve just readjusted my definition of ‘alone’ and it is now this: though I may be surrounded by 8,000+ fellow park-goers, if I am not obligated to speak to any of them, and if I can wander about thinking my thoughts uninterrupted, then I am – effectively & happily - alone.)

Dance Circle #2

On Sunday afternoon I lunched in Riverside Park with a friend, then headed over to Central Park for some "alone time."  There I saw a drum circle (above), pink flowers everywhere, roller bladers and roller skaters, a group of breakdancers, a jazz quartet, dogs, dogs, and more dogs, people in row boats, a parrot wearing a fancy hat, a poodle in yellow legwarmers, a toddler with a plastic sword, picnics, red-breasted robins, and nearly every strata of society mixed together, enjoying the free space and lingering sunshine.

On Monday evening, CJL and I skipped the gym and instead walked the twilight paths through Central Park.  As we chatted about life, we also checked out the state of Tavern on the Green, observed a personal training session near Bethesda Terrace, and pointed a lost teenager in the direction of Columbus Circle.

We passed a fitness group of about 20 people lying on yoga mats with their legs cycling the air - looking like a colony of overturned beetles.  We caught fragments of passers-by cell phone conversations ("Now when you say 'hangover,' you mean...?" and "Helloooo, Fiona!  Everyone is looking at me, but HELLOOOO!")

I don't know who Fiona is, but she should get off the phone and come to the park.  It's a happening place.

*"Lovely chunks" doesn’t sound like it goes together, n’est-ce pas? But it does. Sometimes it does.

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