Central Park was teeming with people over Memorial Day weekend, but in most parts it was still breathable and walkable. Everything was bright green and clear blue, with dots and speckles of every color. It felt as if I had walked into that ultra famous George Seurat painting I had just seen at the Met the day before. It's so peaceful and healing to plop down in the grass, have a snack, and take it all in.
I kept thinking how special and strange it is to have such a vast green space, even if it is man made, in a now-priceless area of an unstoppable city. I wondered if the park would always remain unassailed or if future generations would have to fight for its honor.
We later walked down the Highline, which honestly felt like being in an outdoor subway car compared to the expansiveness of Central Park. The Highline is pretty synonymous to the boardwalk along the Jersey Shore - great for people watching and enjoying a snack with a gorgeous unique view. But it's also almost always jam-packed and not somewhere you go to breathe, slowly soak in the sunshine, or feel anonymous.
Tucked away on the edge of the west village is a sweet small little park. It's a bit noisy from the traffic racing along the west side highway, but the view makes up for it. It feels like a delightful secret, with a selection of classic NY characters, including an old man with a parrot in a cat carrier that he opened up so the bird could sit in his lap. A muscley gay couple was canoodling in the lawn, and a tattooed unabashedly-in-love duo with sugary sweet vintage bikes parked nearby made the whole thing even more like a graphic novel come alive.
We watched the sunset over the river, toes in the chemically treated grass, and I knew I was exactly where I needed to be.