Wednesday, March 10, 2010
The simple act of running into people you know in parts of the city you wouldn't expect is one of those things that makes me perk up and smile at life. It happened twice this past weekend, when we truly started to shake off the chill of snarky, wintry portmanteaus (snowmageddon, snowpocalypse, snowicane) and revel in the earnest joy of spring. Or if not the season itself, then the promise of it. We passed a fellow chorister from the parish at 96th Street while walking down from Hamilton Heights to see Riverbank State Park. The next day, we saw one of a former co-worker of mine in the Botanical Garden near Fordham. Where warm-weather dreams were concerned, some imagination was required: Along the Hudson, the outdoor pool was still empty, of course, and the nearby water-play area still had slow-melting remnants of the most recent blizzard. But the Bronx conservatory's rain-forest room packed an instant thrill of tropical heat that made me think of Costa Rica as I tied my North Face around my waist and folded my long sleeves up to the elbows. An unlimited-ride MetroCard and a corporate membership offered a few, low-cost moments of kinship with those vacationing Facebook friends and their remotely uploaded photos from the actual Caribbean.