#9 - A second home

I have a second home in New York. It's not really a refuge where I go to for a weekend away. Also not a particular place to sleep or to have my things neatly at hand. I could never afford it anyway. Rather, this is where I go to rest my eyes and mind. And challenge other senses. This national historic landmark devised in 1858 is the home to many species of plants and animals. However, I think the animal that most profits from its existence, in my biased opinion, is the Human. This is the iconic Central Park.

Like animals in the wild

Central Park has been referred to, and depicted in, an "endless" amount of movies and cultural manifestations. Before I ever visited it, my mental image of it was not much more than the mysterious and sort of surreal impressions I would gather from watching countless episodes of Law and Order Special Victims Unit, movies with a couple of scenes taking place in it or seeing fashion ads with its pictures. And although all that fantasy still amuses me I feel absolutely no connection between such images and the real Central Park, my real image of it. There is so much more sense of depth, smell and touch to it.

Central Park extends itself beyond the Ramble, the bridges or the Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis Reservoir. There are smells in the air (mostly good and exhaling from the myriad of trees and bushes around). There are squirrels galore and marvelous insects. Over it hovers an atmosphere that shifts as one walks from forest-like shady areas to open grass fields, to promenades and cafes. In Central Park people walk their dogs, stroll around, play baseball, soccer, tennis, ice hockey. In pairs, families, with friends or on their own, they stop for brunch, they go to the theater, they sit quietly on a bench or chat rowdy on a swing. They are stereotypical New Yorkers, business persons crossing the park drives by foot hastily and phoning, they ride a bike or a skate at high speed. Others are just passers by from all corners of the world. They close their eyes while lying on the grass on a warm evening, and listen, for free, to the music emanating from the SummerStage. 


In Central Park people run. All running fanatics in Manhattan (dare I say New York City) end up running, at some point, the small and large loop of the Park, the loop around the Jackie-O reservoir, up the "Cat Hill" and past the Boat House on the East, down the Strawberry Fields on the West. Whatever paths they might find interesting. I am no exception to this. And with my friend L., running buddy, inspiration and coach all-in-one, this touristic attraction has ceased to be so for me. I really feel ever more compelled to call it my "shared second home" as I add an extra mile to my running shoes.

Another friend, J., joins for a Saturday morning run and
sneaks a shot on the way down the West side