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Paula leaving her perch on the Linda building, 920 Fifth Avenue answering Palemale's call for her evening meal.

Palemale with Paula's meal on Tuesday evening.

Photographed in Central Park on Tuesday March 21, 2011.

Have you ever noticed a certain 'brown' in Central Park? It isnít quite a nut brown, nor is it an earthy brown but itís more like an unhappy brown.
Itís the type of brown which seem to want to discourage a smile or a soothing thought. Sometimes I try to understand what makes this unhappy brown. I used to think it was the dried leaves on the ground but it is not because those leaves on the ground are all beautiful and brings joy to my eye even if many of them are brown, they are a different kind of brown--the happy kind.
It is not the bark on the trees either, because brown or not the bark on trees is something to admire.
I get depressed by this terrible brown I see especially when I walk into 81st Street on the Westside and it also makes me anxious. Sometimes I steer my eyes skyward to avoid the suffocating brown which seem to condense from the irate sound of the traffic at the mouth of the Transverse and flow into the park so I step up my pace toward the Eastside.
Where does that brown come from which rakes at my spirit like finger nails cut too short. And those short black fences--they seem to coral the brown but a poor job they do and the brown spews over onto the pathways and makes my footsteps rough. I wish stars stayed out in the daylight just to help get rid of that ugly brown.
Where are the sparrows--brown as they are they are not at all the heavy stifling brown of Central Park, but they are rather the light delightful kind of brown which are a welcomed sight. I wish more sparrows greeted me on the Westside.
Something must be done about that terrible brown which can turn a pleasant walk into a burdensome drag.
Hardly ever does a visit to Central Park stay brown though because soon enough there will be the sight of a friend, perched or in flight, which defies the brown and suddenly there is color again and the brown goes away.
A splash of a duck landing on the pond or the scuttle of tiny feet up a tree and there is much less of that horrible brown.
Sometimes I feel the brown comes from the thoughts of selfish people with wicked plans for the park. Whatever it is I wish the best for all the animals and I wish that unhappy brown will go away forever.

March 21, 2011 newitem219388324