Lyd writes 11 Mar 2007 10:03 am
Reflections on Prospect Park
On our way into Manhattan from JFK last week, the cabbie told mom and I that Prospect Park was the ‘masterpiece’ of Central Park‘s designers. After spending an hour in Central Park last month and an hour in Prospect Park this morning, I’ll have to agree. Central Park’s vast expanse is certainly impressive, but Prospect seems to foster more of a community feel. This may be a result of it merely being in a more community-oriented area, or the fact that it’s 258 acres smaller. Either way, it was glorious.
There were dads playing softball with big groups of kids, guys playing rugby, young moms pushing strollers, dogs jogging with their owners, couples meandering hand in hand. I was never out of eyesight of another person.
I made it across the park, over icy streams and through muddy paths crosscutting groves of trees, to the Botanic (sans ‘al‘) Garden. The open parts of the garden were sparsely green and nothing was in bloom, but the greenhouses were full of humid wonder. It was like being at the butterfly exhibit at Marine World circa 1995, but bigger and in the middle of a city – and without butterflies. OK that comparison sucks. I found it odd that of all the exhibits, the desert greenhouse was the least hot inside. I guess that’s what they mean when they say ‘it’s a dry heat.’
I followed the garden to the north side of Prospect Park, where I was let out onto the front steps of the Brooklyn Museum. I was glad to find it had classical architecture – big white columns – and the names of Roman icons inscribed around the top. Those kinds of buildings always look grand and charming.
I walked next door to the Brooklyn Public Library a bit too early to go inside and check it out, but it was big and inviting.
I re-entered Prospect Park at the northernmost tip and zigzagged my way back down to my street. Lakes and trees dotted the sprawling lawns, and there were people everywhere. I may even go jogging, and jogging so ain’t my thing. It was indeed a welcome respite from the busy hubbub of the Brooklyn streets that flank it on all sides. If you walk far enough, the sounds of children playing and quiet conversation overtake the dull hum of rushing cars.