Starting a list of things I love about my commute, in no particular order. Today's is the Wah-Mei Bird Garden, on the north edge of Sara Roosevelt Park at Chrystie and Delancey.
Many mornings, when passing this corner, I hear a burst of loud, clear, beautiful bird song. Apparently the Chinese men who keep these songbirds bring them to the park every morning to allow their pets some fresh air. Once or twice, I've turned into the park and walked my bike up the steps to take a look and say good morning. The birds are pretty, but not the rococo beauties that the songs would have you expect. Their collective song is a note as clear as a tuning fork above the diesel/horn/subsonic subway rumble that comprises the usual Chrystie Street soundtrack.
This morning, cold and clear and, inasmuch as my commute doubles as meditation, the bird song banished a bit of darkness from my thoughts as surely and completely as a gong in a Himalayan temple, driving out the demons of disorder.
No comments:
Post a Comment