I left the eastern side of the park to the runners and the crowds and the helicopters and joined the walkers and birdwatchers in the west.
It was growing chilly, and I turned home, heading upstream against the trickle of tired runners still moving down Fifth Avenue.
Cries from strangers brought smiles to their faces. The banana supply never dried up.
And today it is Monday, and the city is filled with sore legs and leaves, and the first freeze has been, and it's going to be Thanksgiving and then Christmas, and the year will have turned, one more time.