Last week I hoofed it up to 105th Street to take in one of the loveliest gardens in Manhattan that’s not hidden behind a locked gate.
Dancers in Three Acts
It’s the chat! It’s the chat! We got the chat!”
The excitement was building in Bob’s voice with every word so that I found myself getting excited even though I couldn’t see a thing. We were a group of ten or so standing in a thicket in Central Park, binoculars trained on the trees. We had been stalking a bird the size of a grapefruit like it was Mick Jagger on tour.
A busker, an eccentric, and I walk onto a crowded subway car…