sunday sun

yesterday, i missed a beautiful last-chance-for-summer day. all thanks to the cable company and their inability to nail down an actual time for their service calls.

so today. i was determined to not miss a drop of sunshine. i had loose destinations. as always, i allowed the city to pull my direction at will.

turning onto orchard, i fell upon the green market. filled with plants and fresh vegetables. and moseyed down to the blocks celebrating international pickle day. i wandered the street. peering under tents. children making crafts in the likeness of, none other than, the pickle. demonstrations of canning vegetables. t-shirts with various cartoons of pickles, advertisements for pickles, pictures of pickles. tables filled with samples of everything pickled. different flavors. different textures. nibbling along the way. all the while thinking this was a bad day to forget that bottle of water that all new yorkers tend to have handy. and just as suddenly as the pickle fest started. it stopped. only a couple of blocks long, this was a rather brief encounter. short on quantity. but man was it packed with quality.

as i made an impromptu turn off of orchard, i walked west to mulberry. it was about time that i took in the feast of san gennaro in little italy. a festival that closes down blocks and blocks of mulberry street for about 2 weeks. i have heard of this festival for years. mostly from friends living on mulberry bemoaning the disruption caused by the festival and the crowds of people that populate it. i don't know what i was expecting. but essentially i saw this festival as a possible step up from the standard nyc street fair. and - without the rickety rides and pig races - only a step away from a state fair. i didn't have to go far to figure out it was time for me to move on.

and i got to thinking . . . on a day like today, i usually tend to make washington square park my ultimate destination. but i had thus far inadvertently spent this day exploring the part of the city that is now considered my new hood. so i decided.

it was time.

i made my way up to houston. and headed east. instead of west. and introduced myself to . . . tompkins square. my new park. washington square will always be home. my true north. and west. so many contemplative hours. days even. meditating to visions of dogs playing. so many memories. so comforting. it's been a warm blanket for many cold days. but as i made deliberate moves through tompkins. . . it felt good. this could certainly be my south. and east.

like most things in new york, it was not better or worse. it's just as outstanding. in its own unique way.