We spent yesterday in Prospect Park in Brooklyn watching a gaggle of "under sixes" rush about in birthday celebration. The birthday girl had what is known as a 110% day, with her friends and her friends parents, fresh air, and two small ponies that were the souls of patience. If these kids are our future - humanity's future - well I'm all in. Smart, social, all spit and twigs, and with parents in tow who know how to smile and laugh, let out the strings of control so kids can be kids, and possessing that wonderful ability to know where each is and what they are doing without appearing to see a thing.
Prospect Park is a wonderment. It is a backyard to Brooklyn and so intricately planned that one is completely unaware of it. Great scenes in every direction animated only by the motion of runners and walkers, birds and kids, parents in mushroom groups and blankets here and there. The trees shield you from the buildings and the sky is full of balloons.
We took special note of the trees. So many were specially formed and others appeared to be a natural set of twist and turns. That was an illusion. Nothing was left much to chance there and we had a checkerboard day of moving pieces on a perfect board. One tree held a special bit of interest (obviously). Before it saw the light of day it was perfectly formed - almost a hothouse plant - and when it surfaced at the Park, the great trees suddenly were second fiddles. One can see why.
What a nice day.
