There are moments in time that are so undeniably perfect I don’t even want to blink for fear of missing something or forgetting something. I want to see everything for as long as I can and that one blink might take me away from that moment.
It was dusk in Central Park. It was the perfect temperature just cool enough so you weren’t sweating but warm enough that you didn’t need any extra layers. The sun was streaming through the leaves of the trees making them that perfect bright fresh green to match the Great Lawn. Some places were left in a gray shadow like the deep darkness of the tree trunks where the light couldn’t touch. It added the perfect touch of mystery as we walked down the main path. The lamps had just come on and people were packing up the last of that day’s leftover merchandise. Most of the tourists had left the park leaving a peaceful silence. I never wanted to leave. The grass and trees actually emitted enough of a fresh smell to overpower the usual unpleasant smell of NYC.
The only noise off in the distance was that of strangers singing and dancing together near the Skate Truck. You could hear the happiness rolling off the drums and see the stress leave bodies of people stamping and clapping. They were a family made up of people who had never met. They had simply come together for the music. A celebration of a lazy Sunday where the problems melted away, at least momentarily.
Of course, eventually the sun would go down and the day would be over. That’s why moments like this are so amazing. You get a glimpse of a peaceful heaven but only for a fleeting moment. It would get darker and cooler and soon the happy people would be heading home to get ready for the reality of Monday morning.
But at least I have that picture in my head to try to remember in those not-so-perfect moments.