The other day I did something I rarely do: I strolled. Really slowly. Down a street. Usually, I save the strolling for the park or other serene settings, but for some reason, while walking down Fourth Street in Park Slope, I felt the urge to slow way down and take my time. (Don’t worry, fellow fast-walkers, there was no one around and the person or two who came by later I let pass.) It was right before Christmas, and the brownstones were festooned with glittering holiday decorations. Each house, with its uniquely decorated tree and warm lighting, looked more inviting than the last. I’d walked down this street many times. But I’d never really seen it quite this way. Inside a parlor-level apartment, I observed a young couple doing yoga together; inside another, a family making a spaghetti dinner. I’d noticed these scenes before, sure, but our current moment gave them a certain added resonance—they were vulnerable and a bit intimate, at a time when intimacy and connection are what many of us long for most.
A few weeks ago I decided to start capturing little weird, New York-y moments in a notebook, after feeling like I needed a reminder that while my days seemed monotonous—with me cycling through the same four walking routes day after day—they in fact weren’t really. Most were still filled with a bit of magic, like my stroll down Fourth Street. Here are a few more highlights from the month of December:
- Three elderly people standing triangulated outside an apartment building on Eastern Parkway, stoically banging pots at 7 p.m. for the healthcare workers, long after everyone else has stopped
- A doorman excitedly greeting his favorite dogs as their owner passed by: “Who’re the best boys?”
- A moving tribute outside an apartment building to a deceased resident named Ms. Denise, “The Mayor of St. John’s Place”
- An older man in a white convertible (with the top down) blasting “I Will Survive”
- A female postal worker in a USPS sweatshirt and a male worker in a UPS sweatshirt walking and laughing together (could’ve been a couple or two friends)
- Two tightrope walkers, a guy with a metal detector, and a guy boxing topless, all in Prospect Park on a frigid day
- A unicycle in the trash
- Sherry and spiked cider at a festive outdoor bar among snow piles
- A walk down a peninsula off the lake in Prospect Park I’d never known how to reach
- A brownstone with a tree covered in wigs in the front yard, which I’d noticed before; what I hadn’t noticed until this particular stroll was the additional hair decor inside
Notes from The Wonder City 