To Live Among the Trees

…to live among the trees and in the fields, never growing older, never growing wiser, children ever…

– David Copperfield

I walked through Central Park after my first graduate school exam yesterday.

Hopefully, the New Yorkers among us were outside just after dusk because it was gorgeous: the reflective sun glow vanished and only lush colors remained. It was the Witching Hour.

There are benches throughout Central Park, many of which have dedicated placards. As expected, many of the dedications are the generic “In Honor of So-and-So.”

But others are truly wonderful. There’s magic in these messages, in the spirits that fly from the placards. I like to think they protect the park and make it the special place it is.

My favorite is dedicated to businesswoman, humanitarian, New Yorker Agnes Varis, who (among other things) is responsible for the rush ticket program at the MET Opera.

Her plaque reads:

Builder of Fortunes. Nurturer of Dreams. Grantor of Courage.

What you leave behind is not what is engraved in stone, but what is woven into the lives of others.

– Pericles

I took photos of the bench placards last night, which led to consider the stories behind the bench people, and then of the love, admiration, and appreciation of those who bought and dedicated the benches.

A few days ago I decided that the litmus test for love is whether you would purposefully drop the baseball like Dottie at the end of A League of Their Own in order to let your loved one win the game. Dedicating a bench is essentially the same principle. While on the phone with Kevin I told him that I would drop the ball – I would buy a bench.

For whom would you buy a bench?

Cheers,
Kelly
 

 

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