'Tis the season.

This summer (well, late spring), I've been making an effort to spend more time in Central Park. It's a fifteen minute walk from my house, and yet I'm rarely there. I'd bet that in the ten summers I've spent in Manhattan, I've spent more time crossing the park than sitting in it.

And so last Sunday, I packed up my new park-sitting blanket and headed for a quiet spot of green not far from the Delacorte. After spending a couple of hours reading and napping, I gathered my things and set off on a little walk. My plan was to meander back east, then hop over to Lexington in the East 70s to run some errands.

That, friends, is how I found myself in the Ramble, a tangle of paths in a densely wooded bit of the park, along the edges of the lake.

Next time, I'll have to bring a friend and rent a boat, something I've never done. Ten years is too long to go without that experience, right? Right.

Snow day, part two.

As you all know, we had a pretty incredible snowstorm here in New York last week. It snowed overnight from Wednesday to Thursday, but Thursday afternoon was bright and sunny and clear as a bell - the perfect weather for a walk through Central Park.

The streets were a bit slushy, but the park was pristine, full of sledders and cross-country skiers and loads of folks just out for a stroll, like me.

Alexander Hamilton says hello.

One of my favorite things about where I live is that I'm a five-block walk from this, Cleopatra's Needle. The obelisk actually dates to about 1,000 years before the time of Cleopatra herself and was erected here in New York in 1880.

There's been some debate recently about how well the obelisk is holding up exposed to the weather, but one thing's for sure: there's something majestic and fascinating about seeing it juxtaposed against the snow.

On my way out the park, I saw some kids leaving (temporary) hieroglyphics of their own.

I also saw one of the coolest snow forts of all time.

The faces on the facade of the Metropolitan Museum of Art agree: snow is cold, but pretty.

Am I in Central Park, or northern New England?

Slushy.

So far, I've been...just ok about keeping up my walk-across-the-park-once-a-week resolution. I've done it a couple of times, but not even close to once a week. This weekend was one of those times, though, so let's take a look!

The walk was a bit labored - I entered the park at 90th Street and 5th Avenue, and had the idea of walking around the reservoir. However. Once I got up to the path (after passing the creepy, funereal urns decorating a memorial to John Mitchel), I discovered a river of slush, ice and mud. The path around the reservoir, you see, is made of dirt and gravel, the better to run on. Snow melts slowly on that surface, and tends to melt and refreeze - apparently for weeks on end.

So things were a bit slow-going, at least until I reached the reservoir's southern tip and broke off to follow a paved path around the Great Lawn.

All in all, though, a gorgeous walk on a gorgeous day. Not a cloud in the sky.

Crisp and cold - and a new resolution.

A couple weekends ago, during the early January cold snap that enveloped the Eastern states, I took a sunny and very chilly walk across Central Park. I started off near my friends Miya and Jordan's place, at 64th and Central Park West, and left the park at 72nd and 5th. Along the way, I saw the icy towers of Midtown rising above the park's trees (one of my favorite New York sights).

I also passed this statue of Mother Goose. She's pictured astride a goose, and her plinth is covered with carvings depicting scenes from her various tales, including Humpty Dumpty and Little Bo Peep. I love the look of wise glee on Mother Goose's face and the sense of movement she creates, with her cape flying out behind her as she rides the wind.

Behind Mother Goose, two (slightly creepy) children keep watch over the entrance to the Rumsey Playfield. To me, they looked like something out of a horror novel, the sort of imp that comes to life after we've all gone to sleep.

I don't walk through the park nearly as often as I should, and this walk reminded me of that. I've resolved, therefore, to make a weekly pilgrimage from one side to the other. I'll try to document these walks here; I think it'll be really fun to watch the park ebb and flow with the seasons, and I can't think of anything that makes me feel more connected to the city than drinking it in as it was intended: on foot.

Queenie's Treasury

It's a cold, clear Saturday here in New York, and I spent my afternoon hanging out with my friends Jordan and Miya and their adorable daughter, Emi. We ate eggs in purgatory (delicious) and drank copious amounts of coffee. After lunch, I walked home across Central Park and just generally enjoyed the crisp glory that is New York in winter.

And then I realized - hey, I need to write a Treasury post! So here I am, and here we go.

First up, a craving-inducing Flickr group from the folks at A Hamburger Today. A whole photo pool full of mouthwatering burger shots. And more burger shots. I die, truly. I warn you - do not click through if you're not ready to give in and have a burger for dinner.

Next, a potentially exciting development in the world of unctuous goodness: could chicken skin be the next bacon? As a major fan of Kasadela's grilled chicken skin on a stick, I applaud this potential shift, especially it's tip-to-tail sensibility. Bring on the crispy skin, I say.
Finally, something that makes your brain happy, as opposed to just your tummy. Some gorgeous, fun pieces from pop pop portraits, one of my favorite Etsy sellers. I just love Helena's fashion-oriented, nostalgic aesthetic. I wouldn't mind having her paint my portrait, so long as she helps me choose the outfit as well. (Discovered these a while ago, but was reminded of them by PVE Design!)

Friday in the park with Queenie.

No visit to (or staycation in) New York would be complete without a visit to Central Park! On Friday afternoon, after a lunch of steak tartare at the soon-to-close La Goulue (where the steak tartare isn't bad, but pales in comparison to the delectable version to be had at Camille), I wandered into Central Park just north of the zoo.

About halfway across the park, just past the Bandshell, I plopped down on an empty, sun-soaked bench, cracked open a book (The Story of Edgar Sawtelle, my newborn book club's first selection), and passed the next three hours in a haze of contented happiness.

I ask you, though - is this Central Park, or an enchanted forest? The tangle of elm and oak trees had me mesmerized.

Once I'd been thoroughly lazy for long enough, I walked home up Madison Avenue, where I admired the ridiculously blue skies and piece of gorgeous couture in the Vera Wang window. All in all, a nice way to finish a lazy afternoon.