I Spend A Day In Central Park

April 17, 12:35 p.m.

Was not quite prepared for the city, so I headed in a zig-zag fashion to Central Park.

First I stopped at Bryant Park and ate a strawberry torte with a coffee from a nearby delicatessen. Flocks of children playing, sunshine on buildings, couples and single folks sitting at tables so leisurely it could be a Seurat painting.

Walked past delis, pizza parlors and curiosity shops, bought a pen and fun-saver camera. Sidewalks full of important-looking people, high-fashion girls benefiting from the finest cosmetics, hairstyles and sunglasses money can by. How so many people walk so many blocks in such high heels amazes me.

The sight of magnolia trees, statues, colorful striped awnings of hot-dog vendors at the corner at 59th and 5th Avenue sent a wave of good cheer through my weary frame. The same Central Park I remember, rocks and tunnels sculpted into the landscape, people everywhere, jogging, walking dogs, riding bikes, pushing strollers. A beautiful day.

Jazz quartets playing lazy trumpet solos. People lining the benches reading the daily news, talking with each other or playing with cell phones.

I snapped a photo for a couple as they stood atop the terrace overlooking the lake.

Slept for a while under a bright cherry tree, using my carry-on bag as a pillow. A guy with three dogs, three girls smoking cigarettes on a blanket and a listless African man with a worn-out bag and wooden drum rounded out my surroundings.

Went to the Neue Galerie on 86th Street and marveled at the intricate brooches and belt-buckles designed by the Wiener Werkstätte. When I good-naturedly asked the guard if they sold replicas of the jewelry in the gift shop, he said coldly, "These are not for sale." I think he might have misunderstood me.

Other items of interest in the museum included dozens of studies by Klimt of women fingering themselves in various postures, and the crown jewel, a bright blue painter's smock of Klimt's with wizard-like designs stitched on the shoulders in yellow thread.

A lindzer tort and a coffee later and I found myself back at the park. I read a bit from the Trakl book I bought at the galerie and finally fell into a real sleep on the lawn, only to be awakened by a child approaching me while screaming something in an indecipherable kid language. I didn't hold it against him, though. He was smiling and probably only about 3 years old.

I stopped and listened to a man with a white beard and bright green sweater play a pair of sonatas on an electric keyboard, reading off of some careworn sheet music with the word "BACH" printed on the front, an umbrella and a parasol erected decoratively behind him. I gave him four quarters and listened for about that many minutes. Not a bad deal.

I then strolled past the Swedish Cottage Marionette Theater up into the designated quiet space of the Shakespeare Garden. Full of flowers, beautiful old oak benches and tasteful inscriptions from the Bard, including these lines from "As You Like It":

Heigh-ho, sing heigh-ho, unto the green holly.
Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly.
Then heigh-ho, the holly.
This life is most jolly.

Enjoyed a lookout from the restored grandeur of the Belvedere Castle, lingering on the ramparts and gazing out south over the lake.

Some girls sitting near the statue of King Jagiello gave me a lighter after I begged a light, smiling and saying I could keep it.

I found a seat outside the Alice in Wonderland statue and watched a bald crazy fellow run erratically in circles. Just when it looked like he was about to jump in the pond, he'd arc back and change his course before running in a circle all over again.

At 7:45 I left the park to meet an associate for dinner.

It was an altogether dainty and delightful afternoon!

(confession: the picture above is one Jenn took in Kansas City, but I did see many trees like it in the park and I haven't had the time to develop my fun-saver film just yet)