A Morning in Washington Square Park

At 8:15 AM, I emerge from the Christopher Street subway station and walk to Washington Square Park, feeling the brisk morning air as I find the gate leading to its benches and green foliage.

I walk on the cement, hexagon-shaped tiles towards the center of the park. I stop for a moment to bask in the beauty of the trees, the fountain in front of me and the Washington Square Arch. I survey the open space for a spot to sit as I feel the rising sun gleaming in my face. I decide to circle around the fountain to sit on the other side of the park where I could hide from the sun. 

As I sit down, I feel a slight breeze against my cheek and immediately reach for chapstick in my bag. Right as I finished applying, I see a man jump in the fountain in front of me. He begins to take off his clothes and cup water from the fountain in his hands and bathe himself. I had never seen something like this before. 

20 minutes later, I notice two friends with cups of coffee in their hands. They swing their legs over the fountain rim, and start dipping their toes in the cold water. I wondered if they would have done the same, playing in the water, if they knew that a man bathed himself in that spot just a couple minutes earlier.

After this, I could feel the warmth of the sun tapping my right shoulder around 8:35 AM. The park was still quiet at this time, with only about 50 people around the fountain.

During this time I focused on what I could hear. Amid the sounds of barking dogs, cars, and construction, the park’s tranquility was disrupted.

Right at 9:06 AM when more and more people were shuffling in and out of the park, I looked up and saw the most handsome guy I had ever seen. He looked straight out of a Ralph Lauren catalog. Chiseled chin, light brown hair touched by the sun, white button down shirt and light blue jeans. He makes direct eye contact as he walks in front of me. It made me instantly regret wearing my pimple patches in public today.

Before I get up to leave at 9:09 AM, I turn around to admire the Anise Hyssop flowers behind me. I see the bees buzzing on each petal it sinks its nose into to collect pollen. I was so close to the bees I could see their yellow and black fur on their tiny bodies. I thought to myself how beautiful it is to be in nature, even surrounded by a concrete jungle.