The Return of Summer in Central Park
How summertime in New York City looks different—and the same—during the COVID-19 pandemic.
Every year, nature reveals certain cues indicating that summer has returned to New York City. Periwinkle violets popping out of window box gardens. Tiny green leaves sprouting in place of cherry blossom buds. Grass in general, frankly. I gauge the arrival of summer with a different set of seasonal cues, which I gather while walking through Central Park, my oasis — as for so many New Yorkers — away from the city’s sweltering streets and skyscrapers.
Usually, upon entering the park at 85th Street and 5th Avenue, I am greeted by a panoramic scene one can only find on a summer day. To my right: melted chunks of cherry popsicles along the footpath, backwards baseball hats, multicolored scooters, and kites boosted by a sudden gust of wind. To my left: sparkling water in pastel cans, overalls and crop tops, amateur watercolor paintings, and frisbees snatched off the steady breeze.
I enjoy my carefree walks in Central Park and the small summer cues I find along the way. They are my signals that New York is alive and well, the returning joys of the season winding every which way along the park’s gravelly paths.
Normally, I’ll make my way further up the park, walking toward the wide loop of the Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis Reservoir. I’ll pass a young couple sharing a box of Nathan’s cheese fries, or an elderly couple chatting excitedly about “classic summer dresses” making a comeback. (“You know, the long ones with floral print!”) I’ll see babies every 20 steps or so. Babies in gingham. Babies in sunglasses. Babies in gingham and sunglasses. I’ll pass people asleep in lounge chairs and dogs asleep on the grass until I finally reach the reservoir, where I’ll watch the ducks asleep along the water’s edge.
Typically, I enjoy my carefree walks in Central Park and the small summer cues I find along the way. They are my signals that New York is alive and well, the returning joys of the season winding every which way along the park’s gravelly paths. This year, however, my walks have not been as carefree — because this summer is anything but typical.
This year, the delicate perfume of periwinkle violets is muted by the pungent smell of hand sanitizer. The waves of tiny green leaves are now the backdrop to a sea of bright blue surgical masks and gloves. The sound of an ice cream truck stirs up anxiety rather than excitement at the thought of a cool cherry popsicle. A cloud of caution looms over Central Park as the city continues to fight the spread of COVID-19.
Although this summer is certainly atypical, the city still retains glimmers of its typical summertime vitality.
As I make my way up to the reservoir, panting through the bandana and coffee filter I use for my homemade mask, I am careful to keep a safe distance between myself and the couples, young and old, around me. I don’t really notice their conversations or displays of affection anymore. The awareness that I am in the throws of a global pandemic, its ending uncertain, never leaves my mind, no matter how many times I circle the reservoir’s loop or how long I stare at the sleeping ducks. It is hard to envision when I’ll be able to walk through Central Park — through New York in general — without taking all of these precautions. Months have passed, and much of the city remains shuttered.
Yet, I have been noticing some of my usual cues that summer is returning to New York City. In the sea of masks and gloves, there are still backwards baseball hats and multicolored scooters. Though slightly further apart from each other, there are still watercolor paintings and frisbees. Every 30 steps or so, there are still babies in gingham and sunglasses. Although this summer is certainly atypical, the city still retains glimmers of its typical summertime vitality. If summer can return to New York, that is a hopeful signal to me that the rest of what makes life in this city great can — and will — come back, too.
