08/06/2020

B is for Becca

and for Bicycling through Brooklyn

Washington Sq Park

Becca Ida Siegel is my best friend. Why do we always wind up at Washington Square Park? The people there are lively. They soak up the sun and songs of small musicians; they skate around in the fountain; they don’t marvel at the arch. New York City is not dead.

Prospect Park

We Citi-biked across the Brooklyn Bridge to another park full of lively humans. Becca met my college friend Maggie. We shared some Coronas to forget about corona.

It’s so strange. I know I should be sad, and I am, part of me is. But it’s like… it’s like I’m having the most beautiful dream… and the most terrible nightmare, all at once.

All the mountains and the rivers
And the valleys can’t compare
To your blue lit dancin’ eyes
And yellow shining hair
I could never hit the open road
And leave you layin’ there

Dear Mary,

We are so sorry to hear of your seclusion

But are hoping you will soon be better.

We want to come to see you and will as soon as you are able to have company. But do take care of your self.

Hope your father is better.

Mr. + Mrs. A P Hopper.

Brooklyn, again

We discovered where the fairies go to dance: Clumber Corner. Cycling deeper and deeper into Brooklyn is like journeying into a heavily saturated dream world. Wes Anderson would probably approve.