The beautiful canes of invasive blackberries (Rubus fruticosus) in Central Park's Ramble yesterday, the first day of 2014. I recognized this patch from a walk I led for the Peninsula Hotel in late summer.
A tree creeper (Certhia americana) doing its thing: creeping.
I had been invited to join Wild Metro's second annual New Year's Day "romp" in Central Park. The founder, David Burg, is a friend of mine.
We were hoping to see some owls, but the owls had moved on. So we saw winter, instead.
After the romp (more a very slow ramble, really) I decided to skip the subway and go home on foot, walking the 55 blocks between the Ramble and 127th Street fast to undo the knots that slow walking and standing encourage in the oft-quoted region of my lower back.
These icicles were along the rock faces of Central Park West. Close to home, still at the park, I spied some future pokeweed and knotweed foraging spots, in neglected regions that herbicides had not reached.
And saw some January snowdrops (exotic Galanthus). Climactically-confused flowers, about to be shocked by a snowstorm. I like snowstorms.
When I got home, warm for the first time that day after the fast walk, there was a pretty white package waiting at our apartment door. Inside, a note wishing us a good New Year, and a bottle of olive oil, pressed from our upstairs neighbour's olive orchard in Italy. I tasted some in the palm of my hand - deeply green, rich and fruity, with plenty of peppery heat.
Harlem has its advantages.