Walking in the Rain...

...certainly has its benefits. Especially in late August sun-showers. I would highly suggest a stroll through Central Park during a gentle shower or post downpour. Everything is damp, lush and a little bit cooler. Smells emerge from the natural woodwork--Chinese medicinal herbs along the Bridle Path, wet lavender and rose from the gardens scattered throughout the park. Fragrance ranges from pleasant to curious to at times, ugly (ie, the various smells from horses and dogs).

Amy--who has a penchant for treading and snapping pictures



--and I started our journey at the southern edge of Central Park, 60th at 5th Avenue, and made it the full length (with a few zig-zags) to the Harlem Meer. Our excuse for the stroll--the Conservatory Garden at 105th and 5th.

Following a straight path in the park is impossible since everything eventually curves, and in no time you may find yourself trekking along in the complete opposite direction in which you believed you were going. Right from the start we drifted west, walking along Center Drive, after initially entering the park by the giant aluminum "shoelace" that is actually Franz West's The Ego and the Id.

Photo courtesy of nycparks.gov.

Soon enough, we found ourselves wandering along to a piping calliope spouting out "Let's Go Fly a Kite," among other hauntingly happy selections, and wandered down the hill to a small group of kids taking three minute spins on the carousel, as parents stood by the gate watching. The park's website very appropriately notes, "the musical tunes from the calliope invoke a past age when the smell of hot dogs, popcorn and cotton candy were the best definition of childhood memories." It did in fact prove to be colorful little time-warp.

In the dampness, walking away from the carousel, the music faded off-key in the distance and we continued even more westward, looking back at it hidden behind the trees with only its yellowish bulbs visible.

The next unexpected stop came when we discovered Ballfield's Cafe, appropriately situated above the Heckscher Ballfields.

Since our trekking had just begun, we didn't seem anywhere near needing a rest, until noticing a handwritten sign on a chalkboard--"We now serve SANGRIA" with the letters SANGRIA curled in taunting calligraphy. (It was past noon, after all...). Then it was two red sangrias, a hot dog for Amy and the quacamole for me--and this was good guacamole, not too soft, strongly avacado, a little spice, with chopped tomatoes and a full basket of chips. The sangria was refreshing and not too potent--which was a good thing in this case, as when you are sitting in the middle of the park, you probaby intend on doing some more walking, even if just to exit.

A relaxed, post sangria mosie down West Drive with full intentions to continue north straight to the gardens, we noticed the back of a giant gorilla made from leaves and shrubs on the opposite side of the street...

...and beyond the gorilla, to the left and right, what looked like paper lanterns hanging from strings. Seeming like a quiant little garden we decided to explore and found an empty brick patio with lacey bistro seating and a vacant outdoor bar.

Overlapping the patio was a glass atrium. Inside, mechanical-looking diners were fully absorbed in their meals and conversation, under a clutter of massive chandeliers, dripping off-white lighting from the ceiling. The inside was eerie and Victorian, opulent, rococo, the hardened icing on a stale wedding cake. (You get the point...) Even the party balloons on the tables seemed marbled and dusty. Maybe it was by default that the occupants took on the theme of the decor, but Amy put it best: "They look like the people from the Titanic who died, but they are all still in there eating." We stood, observing them from the other side of the glass. (How melodramatic this walk has become!)

It turns out the "haunted" atrium was the Crystal Room of the infamous Tavern on the Green, displaying a good portion of its 45 chandeliers (constructed from over 15,000 pieces of crystal) which oddly enough, I have never seen from the inside of the park, and not oddly enough, have never seen from the inside. I believe Ballfield's Cafe with its sangria, and its blue-eyed waiter in a newsie cap rambling about Lollapalooza is more conducive to my taste and budget. But here are some more shots of the eeriness. (Disclaimer: the weather most likely produced the dramatic effect of our observations. I intend no harm to anyone who has dined, or planning to dine at, Tavern.)

Somewhere around 70th, we decided to refer to a map and made a plan to walk straight up the West side, past Strawberry Fields, alongside the lake, then cutting east after the tennis courts at around 96th street. Along this portion of the journey, immersed in the rich smell of musty attic and a hint of lavender, was a quick stop to view the Swedish Cottage Marionette Theater and the Shakespeare Garden seated just behind it.

Steps up to the Shakespeare Garden.

Continuing further up West Drive, and then veering off to the Bridle Path at the reservoir, we continued to walk in and out of showers, making everything seem rainforest-like and pleasant...

...until we approached 90th, right into the tempestuous pit displaying some of the detrimental effects from that wild storm a couple of weeks ago. Many of the trees had lost limbs from the intense winds --which would eventually lead to decay--forcing the conservatory to uproot those that were badly damaged. We only witnessed about 20 or so uprooted trees, but apparently as of last week, the toll is past 200. Tulip trees, Dutch elms, yellow buckeyes, some dating back to the 1920s, the storm stuck without bias.

Because of the amount of damaged trees in the area, the massive span of tennis courts seemed vacant, and as we noticed upon arrival, closed. A little weary and perhaps downtrodden, craving a mid-afternoon jolt of sugar and caffeine we cut across east at the 97th Street Transverse, past the North and East Meadows, and exited the park with the fervent intent to find a Starbucks (sorry, guilty pleasure...) for an iced cafe mocha, and then continued on up 5th avenue at Mount Sinai to the gated entrance to the gardens.

And, aaaah. An iced mocha later, we were ready to start exploring the Conservatory.