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It's hard to say anything about yesterday without commenting on the wind. New York certainly gets its share of windstorms, but yesterday's seemed different - more forceful, and in the middle of the day.
I took a walk in the afternoon to break up the monotony of sitting at my desk and feeling glum. The pathways of the park were littered with small branches and clumps of leaves torn off by the wind. Just past Balto, I ran into a cloud of dust rising up from the grass-free soccer/volleyball field. In the center of the dust cloud lay one of the old elm trees of Literary Walk split apart and lying on the ground.
And later, when I tried to catch the A train at Columbus Circle, I was stopped several blocks away by a police barricade. The southwest corner of Central Park and the streets near Columbus Circle were shut down because debris was being blown off of the AOL-Time Warner building that is under construction just west of the Circle. A stream of people were walking up the road in Central Park, which had been shut to traffic, heading up to the stop at 72nd Street.
I found it comforting that the City's weather reflected the turmoil of its people. Not like a year ago, when faultless blue skies surrounded the collapsing towers. On that day, even the weather had been caught off guard. Yesterday, as we pushed through the wind along city streets, I think many New Yorkers were, like me, looking for some kind of meaning in the wind. I liked thinking that it was the City washing itself clean, blasting out the aura of evil that hung in the air. A friend's mother told me she saw the wind as the souls of those killed last year, many slight breezes summing into a gale.
antes era oops
despues tenés what path, what future?
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