Stuyvesant Town and its rich cousin, Peter Cooper, have never looked better. The 80 acres are decked with deep blue, creamy white, and delicate purple hydrangeas. They have no scent. The Oval lawn is robust, green and has the scent of childhood walks in forests. Gardners, is there anything more difficult than tending a lawn? Our lawn is dotted with white Adirondeck chairs. Why does summer flood me with happy Indiana childhood memories?
Since March I’ve gotten to know StuyTown better from daily walks under the plane trees.
In the past few weeks I’ve ventured out. Time spent in Washington Square Park, immediately north of Judson Memorial Church, walks in Battery Park to visit the Merchant Marine memorial and to take the Staten Island ferry, walks along the Hudson. Lately, I’ve taken the subway to Brooklyn to attend a friend’s birthday. This week a friend and I went in search of her Green-Wood burial site. It was a sizzling hot day so we stayed for about two hours before rushing into the dark ,clean, air -conditioned R train.
Yesterday I descended into the L’s snazzy new Ave. A and 14th Street station, changed to the G and joined a friend at Bergen and Smith for an outdoor supper in one of our favorite French restaurants. I put ice cubes in my red wine even in a French restaurant.