Central Park on a Saturday in summer.
The place was, in short, a zoo.
So we found some animals, created by Edie Pijpers, a Dutch artist selling her beautifully meticulous and whimsical work on the avenue under the great old elm trees, and bought two small paintings of New York for Rebecca, my small niece...
We sat and listened to music, every 60 feet another musician.
We saw people loving lawns.
And the beginning of an early fall. The plane trees are thirsty.
And then we found waffles. From Wafels and Dinges.
You know, I would love to say, This man is a pig. Look at him! But he's not a pig. I've never known a more un-Pig. And I should know. I come from a long line of pigs. My father's nickname is Henri Pig. Vince was just happy. So happy that he went back and bought another one.
And then we felt that we had seen enough. And we allowed ourselves to go home.