New York - Revisited

Two years in a row now I’ve been in New York City during the month of October, which might be the perfect month for quiet mornings and soft light. Beneath a gentle rain I retraced my steps through Central Park, went beneath the Bethesda terrace and encountered the same classical guitarist from the year before. By request he again played Erik Satie’s Gymnopedie No. 1. How many years has he practiced there? I envy his relationship to that terrace and fountain. One can sit and watch the crowds, the newly engaged, the families come and go. For me, it is the heart of Central Park. When walking from the south, you reach it by what I believe is “the literary walk,” a tree lined avenue that leads to the stairs of the terrace.

How I felt - like both adult and child. I was moved by the gold plates affixed to the park benches. Each carries an inscription of love and remembrance. The one below paints the picture of two lives in so few words - “For Andy, who took me walking through the hills of Jerusalem.” Can you see them on a hill overlooking the ancient city?

I gave in to an intense sensation of nostalgia tinted by deja-vu. Here I was, another year behind me and another walk through the park. The child in me delighted in the New York Public Library, the chance to see the actual Winnie the Pooh dolls, the treasure trove of vaulted ceilings and seemingly endless corridors. I’m not embarrassed to say I still read Winnie the Pooh from time to time. It was a childhood favorite and I was gifted a beautiful collection two years ago. Much like the Little Prince, one should read these as an adult and be reminded of our propensity for delight and wonder. If only we would get out of our own way.

I try to think of this quote from time to time -

“What day is it?”
“It’s today,” squeaked Piglet.
“My favorite day,” said Pooh.