So many things are insane in a bad way right now I wanted to take the opportunity to show off something that’s insane in a good way. Ladies and gentleman: Fort Tryon Park, insane (in a good way).
In case you missed just how insane (in a good way) Fort Tryon Park is right now, here’s another picture in which you can also see the George Washington Bridge. I’ve also cropped out the obnoxious apartment tower just to the south of the bridge, another legacy of New Jersey’s governor.
New York City doesn’t really “peak” in terms of fall colors until November, which is nice if you didn’t manage to get to Lake Placid in mid-October.
This week was perfect weather for running, which I feel a little guilty saying because it’s probably due in part to global warming. (Science readers, feel free to weigh in.)
Here’s a patch of purple asters to distract you from _______, which is making everyone I know nervous.
I’m just hoping that ___ and that ___ because if ____ it will be ____. Or maybe it will be _____ even if _____ because ____.
I once sent a postcard to a friend, which said, “Hi Rebecca _______ _________ ________ ___________ Matt” (We’re not friends anymore, although I’m not sure the postcard was the cause; like so many people in the modern world, we drifted apart.)
I had serious oak-leaf hydrangea envy in the park; we’ve tried to plant a few in our garden and they died, probably due to insufficient light and space.
Or maybe ‘envy’ is the wrong word, because Fort Tryon Park is in ‘a different league,’ so far above me that I can only feel awe and admiration in the presence of such beauty. It’s how I feel watching Olympic marathon runners reel off 26 five-minute miles.
Whatever happens on Tuesday, I’m going to be consoled by the idea that Wednesday morning will arrive with Fort Tryon Park still empty and intact and awesome and available for early-morning runs. I’m pretty sure I’ll watch the election returns, but maybe I won’t: I’ve been going to bed early so that I can ‘get my ass up’ in the morning and go for a run before work. (Something I never thought I could do.)
And then I’ll take the path down to the river, which will be steep and inviting to everyone who wants to fly past the fallen leaves.
