My very most favorite days are those when I realize there’s no place I would rather be than where I am in that exact moment. And this was one of those days.
We stepped into the Park at West 66th Street and saw that we weren’t the only ones who had the idea of spending Saturday in the Park. Sheep Meadow was dotted with with couples and families – such a welcome sight after the all the forced isolation.
The carriages were doing a brisk business.
And while the calendar was about to announce the start of fall, it felt like we were in the midst of a summer celebration. It was a party, complete with entertainment:
We ambled on up to the Ramble, where just ten minutes or so from the center of Manhattan, we were instantly immersed in a woodland fantasy. According to the Central Park Conservancy, “the design of the Ramble was intentionally intricate, with twisting paths that encourage wandering and create a sense of mystery and surprise”. Mission accomplished!
This view of the pond! Oh my!
We sunned ourselves at the water’s edge like the turtles that basked on the rocks, while punters in the rental rowboats eased past, the water lapping at their oars. Pastoral bliss in the middle of Manhattan.
How lucky we were to have that day. It was a gift; the shimmering end of summer.
Just days later, rain…
And now, back home in California, fall has arrived. The light fades earlier and earlier and like it or not we steer toward winter. Here’s hoping it, too, brings moments where we all feel we’re exactly where we want to be. I’m reminding myself that every season has its blessings.