Sitting here on the flat rocks amidst the flickering shadows on the grass not many things in my slice of view hints that I am in the middle of New York. I see birds, squirrels, bushes, trees and occasionally people, but no city.
A small distance away near the exit of this part of Central Park benches are lining the path. Set in the path is a stone ornament proclaiming ‘Imagine’ and next to it on one of the benches a man with a guitar. He plays ‘With A Little Help From My Friends’, ‘Jealous Guy’ and ‘8 Days A Week’. Even though – or perhaps because – this area is dedicated ‘A garden of peace reserved for quiet contemplation’, no music or singing allowed, his songs feels very appropriate. The atmosphere here has definite parallels to the Gothic church I visited this morning. There it was maintained by pointed arches, hymns being sung, limestone, saved up quiet and red-and-blue stained glass. Here it is created by the city sounds, a girl laughing as she plays with a hula ring, people’s quiet voices as they walk past and read the inscription, the sound of the breeze, the birds, the guitar and the man’s singing.
Not a solemn church dedicated to the Christian god by his by definition sinful and unworthy worshipers, but a green welcoming, open and smiling place for people and the idea of peace between them. Beatles-hymns being sung in rememberance of a man imagining peace and understanding among mankind.
Perhaps it would come across as naïve or sentimental without the guitar playing, but for now it is delightful, comforting, and right. Even more so seen in contrast to the rest of New York, dirty and worn by its unfriendly throng.
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