Rewind. Back to Monday.
No choice but to push aside any notion of those so-called Monday morning blues. A chilly start gave way to a spectacular spring-like day in New York. I don’t know why I felt so unprepared; March 20th is around the corner after all.
Armed with the knowledge that Central Park’s cherry blossoms were in bloom a few weeks too early, I’d planned to walk to the Jacqueline Kennedy Reservoir from 68th Street on Central Park West, up to around 94th Street East, where I know many of the trees line its water’s edge.
An unexpected change of plans.
I had two hours to spare, yet I never made it to the Reservoir. Was I a slow walker? Did I take lose my way within the Park’s criss-cross of pathways? No, and kind of.
Entering the Park, I was immediately sidetracked. My purpose and direction had given way to inevitable distraction and intrigue. From stopping and starting to admire practically every flower in bloom – daffodils, snowdrops, crocuses; to dodging cyclists, strollers, and groups of runners; to stumbling upon a meeting of the minds with some hard-shelled creatures (who won my heart) – I was simply caught up in a seasonal change of pace.
What a far cry from the snowscapes I’d documented in the same area a couple of months ago.
Caught up in springtime musings, I only managed a walk around part of the Lake, and across to Bethesda Terrace – both spots a stone’s throw away from my where I’d started. Yet I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Such is the appeal of Central Park; so alluring is the unfurling of its changing landscape as the months go on.
That’s all wonderful, but what of those blooming pink cherry blossoms – you might be asking? Whilst I am planning on returning again soon, I saw so much more that I had anticipated during this time-out.
You’ll see what I mean.
Enjoy the stroll!
Flowers line the park’s entryways along Central Park West. The gentle hum of Spring takes over; there’s a buzz in the air. Bunches of gold daffodils make for a jovial welcoming party, as if smiling under the sun’s rays…
… heads bowed in respect of their admirers.
A solitary bouquet of snow-white white crocuses peeking out from the ground; so delicate, new, and pretty.
Early afternoon shadows: lines; asymmetry; a haphazard mosaic design.
Strands of gold form a curtain in anticipation of the big reveal – a theatrical scene. Glimpses of activity on the Lake. Can you see the rowboat?
Getting closer. Rowboat, framed.
Busy is the background scene. Ice skaters have now given way to rollerbladers; cyclists navigate a busy roadway; runners acclimatise to the sudden hike in temps, all the warmer for the lack of shade. In the midst of it all, daydreamers relax on a park benches and soak in the sun.
An inspired artist, sketching…
… and strolling iphotographers, isnapping.
Beautiful yellow blossoms add extra colour along the way….
…as do patches of snowdrops ….
… all the way to the water’s edge.
Only to find, on the other side, a congregation. A meeting of the minds. Under the bare brush and on a couple of rocks – jutting out from under the lake’s surface – a couple of birds and some reptiles have gathered to form a silent ‘council’.
Moving closer, beckoned over, perhaps? What a fine looking pair – a couple of velvety Mallards…
… and a set of statuesque turtles, perched stoically on solitary rocks. Their necks outstretched, not moving an inch. Do they dare blink?
Edging closer; the largest two wear the hardest hats. Yep, they’re obviously presiding over this mind-meeting.
Turtles – just delightful.
Alas, even meetings of the mind come to an end – unfortunately so. Time to move along.
A quick cross over the Oak Bridge, to the other side. From this part of the Lake shore, a view of the El Dorado Apartments flanked by a rowboat and a contemplative soul.
Meandering along a winding pathway and over the Bow Bridge; rowboats float under its archway – they make for a regular sight.
Rowers paddling this way, and that; gliding from this side of the water, to the other.
A garden of crocuses in all shades of purple beckon towards The Boathouse.
The Loeb Boathouse, up close
El Dorado Apartments, aglow; surrounded by an aura of gold.
A little up the hill; a splash of pink against a cloud patterned stretch of blue. Could it be?
It certainly could. A beautiful cherry blossom tree. A search, partly achieved.
Looking through these blooming pink branches; wondering, is this what it feels to stumble upon a pot of gold?
Room with a view.
A panoramic scene overlooking Bethesda Terrace and its still-dry fountain. The Loeb Boathouse is to the right; the main part of the Lake, and El Dorado Apartments – to the left. People, in between.
Turn 180 degrees; look right down the length of The Mall, punctuated by the buildings of 59th street at its end. Spot the tripod.
A monochromatic view, elongated.
Is the time up already? Westward-bound. Pedicabs, already under the eye of their owner-turned-mechanic.
A road leading to the outskirts that is Manhattan.
Departing. The scent of candy-roasted nuts lingering in the air.
Back in Manhattan. Back on Central Park West. Thanks Spring.