We walked down the length of Central Park a few weekends ago, and events having overtaken me, I forgot to post any pictures, unspectacular as they are. The rose in the formal garden at the north end of the park is not one I would normally choose, but there it was, screaming, The show must go on!
And the wisteria walk below will be a must-see in spring. It will be stupendous.
I like the bones of gardens. I like the emptiness and focus of cold weather walks. Though spring earlier this year was very special. The crabapples below, flanking this imaculate lawn, must be stunning in bloom.
Hawthorn jelly? I was unprepared. No bags with me.
I had never been to this far northern part of the park.
We skirted the reservoir, on which many ducks sat and dived and chatted.
And I found the witch hazel (H. virginiana) whose acquaintance I made for the first time in the Catskills in October.
Parallel to the Museum of Natural History we made a break for it and snatched hot dogs at $2 a piece from the lone stand. Nothing like a dirty water dog on a fluff bun with ketchup and mustard to warm you up on a nippy day.
And back to the lawns and bare trees and silence, gingkos with yellow carpets at their feet.
Dark by the time we got to Columbus Circle, and into the Time Warner building to shop for dinner at Wholefoods.
It was a good walk, from 110th to 59th. I would like to repeat it in spring, in heavy summer, in fall. With foraging bags, just in case.