Crossing Central Park in the morning I was startled to glance across a meadow and see the front of Belvedere Castle, which I'd stumbled on from behind the day before. It used to seem annoying not to have any sense of spatial relations and no sense of direction, but gradually (and faute de mieux) I have learned to accept the advantages of being randomly surprised wherever I find myself.
The long humid summer has left the park much more lushly green than anything I ever see in California. The streets, too, are different, harsher and more worn, like proper background settings for a truly serious novel.
In the evening, sated by art-packed museums, I wander the sidewalks in the fading light and then cross the park again.
