Oddly enough, Spring is more beautiful than ever. The magnolias more magnificent than I remember. It’s a 9/11 kind of afternoon. Cloudless blue skies. New York’s best.
The major arteries of the city are almost empty. It’s what we always giggled about as kids: the neutron bomb has hit. It’s disconcerting. But so wonderfully quiet.
If you like to look, as I do, if really “seeing” is your thing, then every walk brings surprises. Today, I spotted a juxtaposition of “real” and “painted” I’d never noticed before. Can you spot it?
My stroll behind the Metropolitan Museum brings a profusion of trees I never noticed before.
With only a handful of visitors, the good “bones” of Central Park are more visible than ever.
My walk has made my 21 hours indoors more bearable. Not everyone can get out, I realize, as I look out the window at my neighbors across the street. It’s a more poignant reminder of this utterly beautiful but sad Spring.
All photos by Eleanor Foa Dienstag
Top: Central Park, Cleopatra’s Needle