Blue February

Usually I like February. When the sun is out, the light is beautiful, there is usually a good blizzard, Chinese New Year, Valentine's Day. But this year it has been so gloomy. Icy cold days followed by pitiful snow mixed with sleet.

The frozen sidewalk near my house has aquired a layer of grime that offers a little traction.

The piles of snow have strata of grey representing each miserable storm. Although I had work to do on my new street art idea, I could stay in the gloomy house. So I went to Central Park, which usually restores my sense of New York.

I started out near the Metropolitan which seemed like the right place to be on a cloudy day in February.

Everything felt different inside the park.

I have been noticing the bleached bark of the London Plane trees.

They are a bit luminous.

The sun fought its way out adding a little glitter to the frozen puddles. The day became brighter but the sun never really got free from the clouds. I hope the weather turns less punishing.

I really wish I had these bushes in my garden.

Yellow and Green

I have been noticing a lot of green and gold this fall.

It looked good on the garden weeds.

This was one of those afternoons when the sun bounces off dark clouds and the colors are really rich and saturated.

While we were electing our communist mayor last week, the young son was home from school. So I took him up to Central Park to climb on the rocks.

The elm trees, something of an obsession of mine, were at their autumn peak.

I tried to photograph the young son leaping around, but it came out as a blur with no child visible.

We wandered around the ramble, and for a moment he felt a little lost.

Subtle Leaves

For a second year, the autumn foliage has been muted. Last year it was from the rain, this year it was the heat.

I went up to Central Park to find the trees I skipped on the tree hunt because they look best in autumn. I was headed for the Tupelo meadow in the Ramble. Many of the trees were still green if yellowish.

There was an occasional splash of red, all the more striking against the green.

The colors were otherwise soft.

The Ramble lived up to its name and I wandered around in circles for a while, not sure where the tupelos were.

I did not even recognize one when I found it and I did not take many pictures. Perhaps the others had already shed their leaves.

I am so grateful for these rare isolated spots in the city. When I am stressed, being with the trees and the birds calms me down. I had wanted to see the elms on the literary walk in their autumn splendor.

But it was over. The leaves had fallen.

It seemed odd that some trees were still green while others had shut down for the season. But I was more intrigued about tupelo trees. I went to the Brooklyn Botanic Garden, my other refuge from stress.

 The colors were fairly muted there too. The light was really pretty.

There was a well identified tupelo in the local flora area.

Its autumn colors really are beautiful.

And I know what they look like now.

Tree Hunt

Just a random tree, not part of the hunt.

 

A couple of weeks ago, New York magazine had an article about how the trees in Central Park are faring after last year's big August storm.  There was a slide show of some notable trees.  I was at a loose end and decided to go on a treasure hunt of sorts, looking for the trees in the slide show.  With all the subsequent cat drama, I did not have the time to post the pictures until now.  I skipped some of the trees; the cherry trees which look best in April or May, the fall foliage in the Ramble.  Other trees bore witness to violence, like the tree near where Robert Chambers committed murder or the tree that killed a baby with a falling branch.  I started on 103rd Street and worked my way south.

Near 103rd is a stand of young redwoods to replace trees devastated by the storm.  They are so small and dainty, it is hard to believe that they can grow to be such giants.

Their needles are like feathers.  I did not get a lot of pictures because one of the park's workers was setting up sprinklers and I didn't want to get in the way.  It was a steaming hot day, but in the park it was not oppressive.  The sprinklers cause the plant scents to rise into the air.  It was deeply relaxing.

The East Meadow was closed, so I missed the American Elm that New York magazine dubbed "The Greatest" and the small tree that sailed around the city as part of a Robert Smithson art piece.
Near the reservoir is a huge London Plane tree.

It is like three ordinary trees put together.

The bark has some cool patterns.

The English Elm near the Engineers' Gate is possibly one of the oldest trees in the park.

Dutch Elm disease devastated the elm population around the world in the seventies and the eighties. It is pretty impressive how many elms remain in the park.  I had never realized how lucky we were to have so many of these beautiful trees.

This tree felt very welcoming, like an old grandmother.

I swung around the reservoir to the Ross Pinetum. Arthur Ross was a philanthropist and supporter of the park.  In the seventies, he started planting a grove of pine trees.

I love pine trees.  Perhaps it is their smell, the way the fallen needles lie in a carpet that softens sounds. I find them calming.

The pinetum has a playground.  The sounds of the children did not disturb, neither did the squeaking of the swing chain.

At this point, I should have gone to see the tallest tree, but I forgot. By the time I remembered, I was too far south.

This Chinese elm is the descendant of a tree that was particularly resistant to Dutch Elm disease during the pandemic.  Arthur Ross funded a study and the tree was propagated to help replace those that were lost.  Until I started looking for the trees, I had no idea who Arthur Ross was. I think working with trees is a noble philanthropy.

The lake had a large algae bloom.  I would not have wanted to go boating.

I did not take pictures of the Literary Walk, which is off in the distance here. I remember one evening in May, a long time ago, when I saw the walk as the sun was turning gold. It looked like  vintage Disney animation cel from the forties.  Recently, any time I have been there the walk is crowded with tourists in bright clothes, eating.  I do not begrudge them but I do not want to photograph them. So I took a picture of this nearby crusty old elm tree instead.

It had some good light too, even if it wasn't in technicolor.

I had a little trouble finding my last tree, the Chinese toon.  It is the only one of its kind in the park.  At first I mistook a honey locust for it, but then I looked a little farther and saw its feathery leaves.

Apparently the Chinese eat them. The leaves have an oniony flavor.

That is where I ended the hunt, at 7th Avenue and 59th Street, tired but extremely relaxed.

An Arboreal Census of Central Park (New York Magazine)