In my view, you cannot claim to have seen something until you have photographed it
…Emile Zola
Today, caught the #53 bus in Staten Island headed to Brooklyn where I planned on transferring to the R subway to continue my trip into Manhattan. Because of construction, the subway was out of service from where I planned to board. However, this problem ceased to exist when a shuttle bus appeared to transport the strap hangers to 36th Street where the subways were not incapacitated due to construction. When our shuttle arrived at 36th Street, I noticed a rummage sale going on at a church across the street. As is my way, I checked it out. At the sale, I espied many attractive items of sartorial excellence that the church was generously offering without remuneration to whomever desired to take the items away. I took four items (long yellow corduroy shorts, 2 charming sweaters, 1 floor-length denim skirt in a shade that defies description). I would have taken more if I could have carried more. Despite my arms being weighed down in haute couture, I decided to continue my journey to New York City’s most illustrious borough–Manhattan.
I exited the D Subway at the Time Warner Center at Columbus Circle. I know I said I was going to take the R train, but that didn’t materialize into reality, which is how I ended up on the West side rather than the East side, which had been my initial plan. Living in New York, if nothing else, has made me adaptable. One soon learns to always have a Plan B in case Plan A doesn’t work out. After browsing through Borders Bookstore, one of the many stores in the Time Warner Center, I shelled out $2 for an edifying, beautifully illustrated essay on the many uses of leftover yarn. In a state of artistic frenzy, I began to take pictures of the building around me. The Time Warner Center is a multi-floored, glass-windowed, above-ground mall, which houses many of the usual mall shops as well as A Whole Foods Market, that also attracts people with cameras like honey attracts ants.
After taking a photo of the Fernando Botero statue, I began walking through Central Park to my destination, The Central Park Zoo. By this time, I was becoming very tired lugging my exquisite new wardrobe additions around in the 90 degree heat. This prompted me to search through a trash can hoping to find an empty shopping bag in which to put my acquisitions to lighten my load. Bingo. I found one. After organizing my accoutrements into my new bag, my throat felt parched so I began looking for a water fountain. The park, teaming with sweating and panting people, walking, on skate boards, on bicycles and running, despite the heat, I found stimulating. I was glad I had come. After succumbing to buying a Poland water from a vendor, I saw this pretty girl with a pretty dog and asked her if I could take their photo. She responded with a sweet “sure.”
I walked to the Pond. A goose family, obviously with Canadian passports, consisting of a mother, father and their kiddies, fearlessly approached. Fortunately, I had some granola on me, which I proffered them. I assumed they appreciated it, since they didn’t hesitate to gobble it up as soon as it hit the grass. After my new feathered friends and myself said our goodbyes, they jumped into the pond to cool off. Unfortunately, I couldn’t do that without getting arrested; therefore, I picked up my heavy shopping bag and continued on my foot journey to the zoo.
This unparalleled adventure continues:
Once in the zoo, I passed by the seals showing off for the tourists and headed for the polar bears to see how they were coping with the 90 degree heat. I wasn’t the only person looking for them and wondering about how they were doing. Since no one could find them, it soon became apparent they were hiding under the water of their pool to keep cool. Unfortunately, my photos of the penguins, and the African Ibis came out blurry; therefore, due to artistic vanity, none appear here. The pigs at the children’s zoo had such fat bellies that people thought them pregnant. But, they’re called “pot-bellied pigs” for a reason.
THE END
If you liked this post, you might check out my post entitled “Subway Adventure Story,” about an incident I had on a New York City Subway.
Old Woman on a Bicycle 
