For about the last week or so, I've been forgoing my normal cross-town bus commute (almost two miles) and have instead been walking across Central Park. Traveling via foot does take a bit more time, but it's certainly more predictable than rush-hour bus service.
And then I also get views like this:
Which really aren't too bad.
Dogs romping around (lots of dogs romping around, actually), the wetness of a new morning still lingering in the air... and it has been so very warm the last few days that I didn't even wear my jacket or my cardigan this morning on my walk. (Which I often refer to, in my own mind, as a "morning constitutional," which always makes me giggle. Or titter. "Titter" is much a better word to use when discussing morning constitutionals, I think.)
I've been gleefully ignoring some of the concrete paths and have instead opted to take "straighter" courses through some sections of the park, which often allows me to clamber over the shallow boulders I find in my way. (Parkour!) It's quite satisfying, though I am starting to wonder how very starved I must be for nature (or recess?) that I get a thrill out of jumping off of small rocks.
It's been interesting to see the park fill up as the days have gotten more temperate. Lawns that have been empty since... well, since I started work in November, really, have suddenly started crawling with lawn-loungers, families, and dogs/dog-owners. It's almost like this park is in the middle of New York city or something.
I expect to see the hordes taper off again as the weather gets cooler over the next couple days. At the moment, though, I'm quite enjoying seeing the park all filled with life.
...okay, with one exception: I must say that I don't appreciate the moms/nannies and their strollers that take up 3/5 of the very wide sidewalk, with the inevitable toddler tagging along who wanders around haphazardly in the rest of the 2/5 of space so that you can never ever EVER get around their large familial group.
I mean, it takes at least 30 seconds to finally break through the stroller-barrier. Who has that kind of patience?