One snowy afternoon

West 127th Street

It snowed again. Wet, sticking stuff that turned every tree into tangles of lace.

 125th at Lenox Avenue

On corners the slush was already greying into puddles.

But whenever you looked up, there was the snow, icing any surface it touched.

I was heading to 116th, to brave Sea & Sea for some bouillabaisse (p. 169 of The Book) ingredients.

Emboldened by my last visit, when I ordered just two fish fillets for my sandwich, instead the usual three, I felt I was ready for the big one: an actual purchase of fish from the ice wall. 

West 121st Street

But then I got sidetracked, and walked east, to Marcus Garvey Park.

Mt Morris Park West

...which was deserted, and pristine.

Last autumn it was depressed, neglected, with hardpacked earth and thirsty trees. 

But now it is beautiful.

The park interrupts Fifth Avenue. The schist hill was too big to blow up for the grid.

 I saw about six other people. Each one of them was smiling. 

I had been nervous of the leaf cover and lone men, late last year.

But this time I walked all the way to the top. 

This is high country, for Manhattan.

If you'd been there we could have had a snowball fight.

A hawk flew out of the trees, here, slow, silent.

Fifth Avenue. Central Park is at the foot of the two tall towers at the end.

Looking northeast.

  

I passed a boy on his own, talking to his iPhone, which was filming his progress.

Below me another boy ran to a metal pole, stuck his tongue onto it, waited, and ran on, tongue still intact.

Tonight there will be more.