Walking Cross-Town. Crossing the Street.

Posted on by Live & Learn

plant-green-water-drops

The morning ritual is…

GET to the office.
GET to the desk.
Fire up the PC.
GET a jump on the day.
Same. Same. Same.

I exit Grand Central,
and head West.
Same route.
As the crow flies,
it’s a straight shot, on foot, cross-town, to the office on 48th street.
Speed traps are meted out by flashing Don’t Walk! signs and traffic,
as jaywalking is a cultural norm in Gotham.

I couldn’t tell you what triggered it.
It could have been a car horn.
A driver shouting at another.
Or perhaps more subtle,
a bird call amidst the gray, inert skyscrapers,
or a unusually, warm early morning wind gust from my left.

But, a month ago, I turned and I looked across the street.
It was an oasis of green between two hulking skyscrapers.
Small shrubs and plants and miniature trees.

Several weeks pass.
Each time, I glance to my left across the street as I approach.
Take a bloody detour Man. Cross the damn street.
The “Walk” signal ahead is flashing “Walk” and I accelerate to catch it.
I don’t cross.
Day after day after day, I don’t cross.

It’s Tuesday.
A spectacular morning.
My secret garden is approaching a block up.
Cross the damn street Man.  Cross the damn street.
I cross the street. 
I’m stunned at how difficult this interruption to my morning ritual is.

I’m standing in front of the garden.
Manicured.
Automated sprinkler systems are nourishing the plants and shrubs.
Water droplets are glistening on the flats of the leaves.
The ‘greens’ are the greenest of green, a beacon in this sea of concrete.

A gentle breeze from my right rustles the leaflets on the miniature tree,
and I turn to my right to see a copper plate on the skyscraper:

In God We Trust. 1957.

Notes:

 

23 thoughts on “Walking Cross-Town. Crossing the Street.”

  1. Love this on many levels David. Eventually getting to the oasis to perhaps find …
    It takes skill and patience to create a manicured green – whether its gardens or dollars.
    😉

  2. This is such a wonderful of example of how people are boxed into a routine and busy-ness that, although uninspiring, requires courage to break free from; yet enlightenment is around that next corner if we can just press pause and step off the treadmill for a moment.

    1. Yes. Your thought reminds me of this quote Sarah:

      To those who complain of the complexity of modern life, he [Henry David Thoreau] might reply,“If you want inner peace find it in solitude, not speed, and if you would find yourself, look to the land from which you came and to which you go.”

      — Stewart Udall, The Quiet Crisis, 1963

      1. Ah, Henry David Thoreau — I love his philosophical poems. Takes me back to when I first discovered him in my youth, at a time when I particularly needed beautiful words to soothe and uplift me 🙂

  5. See what breaking a habitual routine and following intuition can give us. A personal welcome to the natural world tucked in between hulking skyscrapers. Great writing, David.

  8. Another life paradox: ritual (routine) grounds us, yet ritual (routine) binds us. Having routines keeps us numb, barely alive. When something is rote, it is:

    noun
    1.
    routine; a fixed, habitual, or mechanical course of procedure:
    the rote of daily living.
    adjective
    2.
    proceeding mechanically and repetitiously; being mechanical and repetitious in nature; routine; habitual: rote performance; rote implementation;
    His behavior became more rote with every passing year.
    Idioms
    3.
    by rote, from memory, without thought of the meaning; in a mechanical way:
    to learn a language by rote.

    My addition: barely being conscious. Good for you for becoming conscious!! (and more great writing, David).

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