| ||
| ||
| ||
| ||
|
I am back down to earth after a four day whirlwind that had me quite literally, over the moon.
.
My daughter, Tara was able to get some time off from work and pay a special visit.
.
We managed to cram as much as was possible into four days: Central Park, the Met museum, luncheons out, Rockerfeller Center, Fifth Avenue stores, at least one "animal activist" action -- and Central Park again.
.
But, mostly we talked and joked and laughed and talked and joked some more -- each night staying up till the wee hours of the morning. It seemed neither of us wanted to sleep for fear of missing out on just one more joke or one more laugh.
.
My daughter is deeply religious and thoughtful, seeking daily guidance from God and saying grace before each meal in expression of gratitude and humility.
.
Tara is also (like me) a lover of nature and animals and has always been a committed supporter of true animal justice and any and all efforts to save animals and help to make their lives on this earth just a little bit better.
.
For those reasons, Tara was eager to join me yesterday in the rally at City Hall to support the carriage horses of New York City and to save the livelihoods of the more than 300 hard working people who love and care for them.
.
It was a bitter cold day as we and many other dozens of carriage horse supporters were forced to wait outside the gate at City Hall to even get into the rally. (Something never experienced before at City Hall.) Embarrassed, I tried to make apologies to my daughter, but she was patient and undeterred.
.
By the time we were finally allowed entrance to the steps at City Hall, we had missed at least half the speeches, despite having arrived to the event on time.
.
Perhaps other competing and simultaneous rallies at City Hall presented the obstacles and delay. Or perhaps it was the handiwork of a Mayor who has refused to meet with carriage drivers, referred to them as "immoral" and even failed to visit the stables though there is always a standing invitation.
.
Despite absolute refusal to examine both sides of the issue (presumably because big money from anti-carriage special interest groups helped to fuel his successful mayoral campaign), deBlasio is behind and pushing for the bill to end the careers of hundreds of hard working horse people and send their 220 carriage horses to an unknown fate.
.
How are such actions and attitude defensible in any way, shape or form?
.
My daughter and I were honored yesterday to stand alongside the people fighting to keep the hopes of small, iconic business alive as well as the actual lives of 220 thriving New York City carriage horses.
.
But, perhaps the icing on the cake (literally) to all the happy, love and pleasure filled moments was last night:
.
While strolling along Fifth Avenue to take in all the Christmas decorations and joys of the season, Tara and I had saved some special moments to stop by the carriage horses at Central Park South to pay our respects and share some carrots.
.
The "plan" was to go down the hack line, chat with drivers, hand out some carrots and take a few photos.
.
But, the plan somehow got derailed with the very first horse visited.
.
Stepping on the curb at 59th Street and Fifth Ave, we chirped to a young carriage driver, "Hi, what a beautiful horse! What is his or her name?"
.
But, before the young man could even answer, the super alert brown horse immediately turned his head to look back and promptly engage us. (The action made me wonder if the carriage horses can actually understand English -- or at least compliments?)
.
"Ah, his name is Harry -- Harry Potter!" the young man smiled and answered in a slight foreign accent. "He is a very nice horse....."
.
But, it was hard to take in all the words of the youthful carriage driver as Harry Potter was so busy nuzzling his head into my chest and checking to see if I had any treats in my bag.
.
I quickly asked Tara for some carrots.
.
Harry assertively stepped on the sidewalk, obviously enjoying the pets, engagement and carrots and blocking our path to any of the other horses in the process.
.
"Wow, this boy really likes the attention!" I laughed. "Is he always like this?"
.
"It's been a quiet night so far," replied the driver."He has energy and enthusiasm and he always likes people."
.
Asking questions, we learned that Harry and his driver, Ali had been out a couple of hours and had taken one ride. If Ali was there to pitch rides to tourists on a cold night, it was actually Harry who was doing a better job of it.
.
It was then Tara suddenly piped in, "Mom, why don't we take a ride? It's my treat for your birthday!"
.
With my daughter making generous offer and Harry beseeching still more attention and treats, how could I say no? I was clearly outnumbered!
.
My daughter and I jumped in the carriage and Ali offered us a thick, red blanket to bundle over our legs.
.
Meanwhile, Harry seemingly happy that he made a "sale," quickly and enthusiastically disembarked the sidewalk and began a leisurely walk towards Sixth Ave and the entrance to Central Park. Cars wizzing by or even double parked appeared to have no effect on Harry who was obviously more than proficient in what he was doing. Quipped his young driver, "I only have to watch the traffic. Otherwise, Harry could do this job all by himself!"
.
Entering the quiet and peace of Central Park, we learned Harry is 15-years-old, has been a carriage horse for ten of those years and though not owned by Ali, is clearly adored by him.
.
"I work with Harry every night. We generally come out at 6 and stay till around midnight. He's a very good horse. I came to this country (from Turkey) because I grew up riding and loving horses. This was opportunity to work with them. If you like horses, they like you."
.
Though I have been to Central Park tens of thousands of times, I had never seen or experienced the park like this -- from the back of a carriage with the confident, soothing clip clop of a horse's hooves guiding the way. There was something very magical and peaceful about it -- especially on a chilly, star filled night.
.
Midway through the ride, Ali kindly offered to take us to a particularly picturesque area in order to take photos with the city skyline in the background. Harry, apparently knowing this to be also part of the routine, stopped in the perfect place for such and patiently waited.
.
Finally, heading back toward the exit of Central Park, some people walking by waved to us, smiled and said, "Beautiful!" We waved and smiled back.
.
At the completion of the ride, Tara and I still had some carrots left and Harry was only to happy to receive them as "payment" for a job well done. Ali, again being a perfect gentleman offered to take more photos, being careful to frame and not jiggle the camera. I am imagining that most carriage drivers become excellent photographers over the years, learning to work with many different cameras as the horses become very accustomed to and seem to enjoy actually posing for pictures. (Such hams!)
.
Finally walking away from our newly found friends with smiles on our faces, both, my daughter and I could understand why a carriage horse ride in Central Park is on the "must do" list of so many millions of tourists over the years.
.
Especially compared to the hustle and bustle of the rest of the city, there is just something so magical, peaceful and yes, iconic and "romantic" about a horse and buggy ride through Central Park. It is indeed something most New Yorkers should take the time to partake in and enjoy as there is nothing quite like it.
.
To quote from an old Simon and Garfunkle song, "And the animals will love it if you do."
.
Certainly, the horses do.
.
But, it is now the next day and evening.
.
Tara has returned to upstate New York and her life and husband there.
.
I am back down to earth again and thinking even more to myself than even a few days ago, that it is absolutely vital to fight for and support the carriage horses of New York City and the people who so cherish and build their lives around them because it is simply the right thing to do.
.
To ever lose our beautiful and treasured carriage horses would be to lose a very vibrant part of New York City itself. -- We could never, ever be the same.
.
Harry told me that in no uncertain nuzzles last night. -- PCA
.
.
.
***********
No comments:
Post a Comment