Sean the dog and I walked with our dear friends on our regular Saturday morning walk in the northern end of Central Park. It is our Saturday morning tradition, meeting in Harlem with our terriers, and walking the ten blocks or so to the Harlem Meer corner of the park.
The sky was entirely blue, and the temps chilled enough to stretch out another day of blooming trees and bulbs. In a more normal spring, there is a rhythm and order to the cycle of blooms, but this early season has managed to almost simultaneously open everything at the same time. So as cherries are still in bloom, redbuds and lilacs are also opening up, and daffodils continue to bloom along with the tulips.
There are moments in New York, when one has a chance while looking out at the window in a tall building, or from a passing car or train outside of Manhattan, to see the full sweep of human density in the width and depth of the city, and wonder how it all works. That people with foresight chose to stake off before the Civil War such a large space as Central Park and designed it with a sense of imagination and understanding of natural beauty still boggles the mind. The garbage regularly gets picked up, millions make their way more or less in and out of the city to work, and in our midst is a human Garden of Eden with room enough for sports crazed bicyclists and runners as well as strollers, tourists and dog walkers.
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