Barefoot in the Park

Since I've been back to New York from my South American adventures, the weather has for the most part been very welcoming. Any chance I get, I'm taking advantage of how close my apartment in Brooklyn is to Prospect Park. Or when I'm in the city, I take a break from all the running around to visit the parks at Union Square or Washington Square. The one that I do need to explore more is Central Park, but I just don't ever seem to be that far uptown (though I plan on it soon). In Lima, parks are a place specifically designated for couples so it can be quite lonely sitting in one by yourself. However, in New York City, there is no end to the kinds of people you'll see in a park: from Prospect Park's warm, welcoming families, couples, dogs, and children playing baseball, to Union Square's chess players, artists, performers, activists, business people on lunch break, and students doing homework. I love to people watch, dog watch, read, catch up with a friend, or just bite into a fresh, juicy Gala apple and soak in the sun's warmth.


I relish in taking my shoes off, sitting barefoot in the grass, and letting the sun restore the tan that winter's cold months depleted me of. There is just something about being barefoot outdoors- feeling the grass and dirt beneath your feet- that makes you feel closer to nature. Lately, this has been my happiness and my peaceful solitude. Except for one day in Prospect Park, when I accidentally acquired a new friend or two. There were a few butterflies fluttering around my patch of grass and they kept landing on me periodically, before flying off again to socialize with one another. At first one would land on my knee, leg, foot, bag and use its tongue to search for pollen, and after realizing there was none to be found, would just stay a little and look at me. Sometimes I had to shake them off because their tiny little legs would tickle me as they walked around, exploring the vast wonders of my leg.