"The Good Ol' Days"

Central Park, the immediate nights before the NYC marathon is as quiet as an Egyptian tomb.

 

So quiet and empty was the park last night, it was downright eerie.  

 

One almost expected Dracula or a USDA "field worker" to jump out of the bushes.

 

I am not a fan of park crowds and have no intentions of trudging to Central Park today to squeeze myself between thousands of runners and cheering fans.

 

I normally see many dozens of runners and cyclists every night. 

 

But, I guess one never quite appreciates anything until it actually goes missing.

 

"Don't it always go to show,  that you don't know what you've got 'till its gone," Joni Mitchell sang.  

 

And yep, truer words have never been said -- or sung.

 

I and the ducks at Harlem Meer have been jumping the past two nights at unseen ghosts, and (Wildlife Extermination Services) goblins -- though it is past Halloween.

 

Of course, I don't know exactly why the mallards have been so weirded out and spazzed.  I doubt its because they miss the joggers.

 

But, three different times they all suddenly bolted into the water like nervous Chihuahuas on the Fourth of July.  And yet there was absolutely nothing going on.

 

Perhaps the ducks were simply missing the geese.

 

The eight geese seen earlier in the week at Harlem Meer have not been seen again.

 

Part of me wonders if the Goosebuster folks were around and that is what in fact "spooked" the Harlem Meer mallards?

 

That, of course, sounds totally paranoid, mistrustful and absurd considering all the downed trees this past week and the cleanup that had to be done in the park.

 

But, absurdity seems to be the order for recent days. Bizarre priorities, "euphemisms" and insanity seem to rule.

 

Walking home through the desolate eeriness of a park without joggers, cyclists, the occasional dog walker, raccoon or (heaven forbid!) geese, I thought about the "good old days."

 

The good old days of the past few years when one would look up in awe at the sights and beautiful honking sounds of goose "flyovers" zooming over the trees.

 

I can't remember the last time I saw or heard a goose flyover in Central Park. Its got to be a number of months.

 

Arriving to and walking around an empty Reservoir, I remembered how beautiful and alive the water used to look at night with the beautiful forms of geese and mallards drawing long "Vs" as they glided mystically through the water.

 

Last night, the Reservoir appeared like a still and glistening black mirror. Nothing alive or moving on it.

 

Nor was there anyone jogging on the running path of the Reservoir.

 

Any second now, a USDA henchman with a rocket net is gonna jump out of the bushes!

 

I am not usually uneasy or weirded out when in the park at night.

 

But, for some reason, I was last night.

 

Following the marathon, the runners and cyclists will again return to the park next week.

 

But, the park will be anything but "normal."

 

I am still thinking about that letter from the USDA spokesperson the other day.

 

Apparently, to the USDA, the "good ol' days" were 1970, when the resident Canada geese in this country were fluttering on the brink of extinction.

 

That is now the new "normal" we are creating again in 2011.

 

"Don't it always go to show, that you don't know what you've got till its gone?

 

You play a pair of dice and put up a parking lot." 

 

Central Park at night, as quiet as an Egyptian tomb.

 

Without geese.  -- PCA

 

 

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