Week in Seven Words #581

This covers the week of 3/7/21 - 3/13/21.

ambulate

In the largely empty bookstore, a teenaged boy walks in a slow, wide circle while reading out loud to himself through a mask.

electrifying

A riveting sax solo brings joy to this corner of the park.

iciness

Today, there's frost in their relationship. It keeps their sentences clipped and cold.

institutionalized

Two seals circle the small tank without pause or release, as the demented bells jangle on the hour.

optical

First new pair of glasses in a while, and I like how they look.

sparking

A crackling cloud of seagulls electrified by the promise of food.

tired

Crusty buildings, haggard strip malls. The brownness of late winter and early spring, everywhere brown, waiting to be relieved by flowers, leaves, anything green.

Week in Seven Words #546

This covers the week of 7/5/20 - 7/11/20.

highbrow

A 12-year-old Samoyed dog is getting groomed in the park by his owner, who has brought along music that keeps the dog happy. ("Opera is his favorite!") As bits of his puffy white coat drift to the grass, the dog grins, even when an aria is anguished.

innocent

The water is dimpled by a toy sailboat. It's an optimistic sight. A bit of normal fun in the park, during a summer when so much is out of the ordinary and out of joint.

jabbing

An egret stalks across the shallow end of a pond. Sometimes, it seems to trip forward, its beak plunging into the water. Maybe it's gobbling up tiny fish.

lacking

At the bookstore, a cashier bounces between the front register and the cafe counter. The cafe has no chairs and tables, and only one customer peeks into it. The front register sees little traffic too. As I explore the shelves, two other employees approach to ask if I need assistance. They need sales, desperately. 

nicely

Our infrequent meetings are a diversion. An hour of strolling, an hour of conversation on a bench with hopeful birds at our feet. The time we share is pleasant. It always is.

rotting

Dead fish bob on the river. Clumps of them befoul the marina. The wind sweeps away most of the sickening fish odor, but some of the stench clings.

venturing

A caterpillar that looks like creamy fluff crawls out from the grass and risks its life on the sunny path. 

Week in Seven Words #541

This covers the week of 5/31/20 - 6/6/20.

boarded

Many stores are getting boarded up, including a book store. The displays of books disappear behind the extra layer of defense against looters. (I don't know if looters would go for a book store when it's surrounded by more likely targets, the ones full of clothes, jewelry, and electronics.) Some restaurants and bars are boarded up too; some may already be out of business. 

curfew

There's a curfew on the city, reminding residents that it's easy for authorities to curtail and control.

defensively

Reasons for dishonesty are varied. Sometimes, it's all about shame. Shame and self-protection. Not about trying to hurt anyone or take anything away from other people.

imagined

Two girls are playing in an artificial stream cut into concrete. They carry pails and pretend they're at a beach fringed by a forest, where ocean water mingles with fresh water among the tree roots.

off
They've settled in a field in the park, but even an open field is off-limits. A guy in a motorized cart enjoys the sound of his own voice, amplified with a megaphone, as he orders everyone to leave.

twilit

The cloudy day feels like a 24-hour twilight. In the part of the park that we're cutting through, the buildings are unseen, the paths unmarked.

unfolded

An egret gliding like a white, unfolded napkin taken up by the wind.

Week in Seven Words #532

This covers the week of 3/29/20 - 4/4/20.

attending

The convenience store is a cube of white light on a dark street. A masked cashier listens to 80s rock while staring out the window.

clanging

In every building on the block, people are at their windows cheering on healthcare workers. They shout, clap, whoop, bang on pots, and blow on trumpets and recorders. Overall, it's a cheerful sound, but I can't help thinking of jail inmates banging their metal cups against the bars.

distant

This feels like a lost springtime. There are blossoming trees and other kinds of loveliness, but it all seems out of reach, as if it's in a parallel world.

emergencies

Streets emptier and sirens more prevalent.

prettiness

A magnolia blossom cradled in the split trunk of a tree.

restlessness

I don't know where I want to walk. I just walk.

undermines

He wears gloves every time he needs to open a door. With a gloved hand he also pulls down his mask and scratches his face. 

Week in Seven Words #516

This covers the week of 12/8/19 - 12/14/19.

aromatic
The holiday market is a dense, sweet-smelling mass of pine and cider. Clustered booths of ornaments, jewelry, scarves, and glossy desserts are overrun by curious and restless shoppers.

doubting
She questions my safety to a ridiculous extent. Sometimes I wonder how much of what she voices is concern versus a vague impulse to undermine my sense of competence.

frosty
It's so cold outside, our fingers are burning with it, as if ice is being rubbed all over them. The metal seats pour more cold into our butts and backs. We huddle into ourselves and share a small bag of lime ranch potato chips.

hospitably
The bookstore where I donate a bunch of DVDs has a friendly, barn-like feeling. You're expecting authors to roost in the rafters, dropping pages of their latest drafts.

slammed
The subway doors slam against my arms, punishing me for my unwillingness to wait for the next train.

spiritless
The second bookstore looks like the backdrop to an upscale magazine photoshoot. It's stylish, with lots of dark wood and gleaming hardcover books, but it feels inert and uninviting. You could easily imagine a few models in overpriced clothing posing next to the pristine cookbooks. An area devoted to books on wine is close to the children's section. There are no kids around.

withdrawn
He's tired, so his thoughts spiral inwards. His eyes glance off the rows of trumpeting angels, the massive tree in the background, and the crowds holding up their phones to capture the scene.

Week in Seven Words #479

bared
It's a bleak, grand landscape of bare earth and massive rocks.

dulled
The bookstore is underwhelming, basically a shrunken Barnes & Noble with a selection watered down to what's most trendy. One of the things I like about bookstores is coming across a book I wouldn't have known about otherwise; that isn't likely to happen here.

intoxicant
A teenaged boy plucks a bud from a magnolia tree. "Is this opium?" he asks his friend. An old lady, walking past them, snorts with laughter. She tells them to come back in a couple of weeks, when the beautiful opium will be in bloom. ("But is it really opium?" he asks. She shakes her head and explains that no, it really isn't.)

sunshine
They've turned a part of the park into a meadow with mulch paths. The long grass is soaked in sunshine.

surface
Around the rock clusters, the stream looks like a ripply diamond-paned window.

trifle
A blister is ballooning on my pinky toe, but I don't mind so much, because it's good to be hiking.

uses
She complains how he's glommed onto her, and how he won't stop talking, but she has no problem using him to carry her coat, camera, or backpack as the need arises.

Week in Seven Words #420

careered
One of the boys loses control of his skateboard, which rockets into a woman's chair.

consensus
Is what they're saying true? They don't care if it isn't. What matters is that equally ignorant people agree with them.

hiccups
There's no telling when he'll arrive. Over a stretch of 40 minutes, he repeatedly claims to be 10 minutes away. Meantime, I read on a bench outside the cafe he chose. I get up, stretch my legs, look around the corner. The cafe has decent potatoes and strange chickpea fries. Our conversation, when he arrives, is propped up by friendly, distant remarks. He buys a heap of desserts. I feel at peace, knowing that I have no plans to meet with him again.

lunching
The pizza parlor is a little red cube with a window and a crowded counter at lunchtime. There's enough space for three stamp-sized tables. I wait at one while eating a slice of excellent margarita pizza, as my phone flickers with text messages about subway delays.

nagged
Two young girls on scooters, pursued by the fretful whine of their mother's voice.

shiny
A cloud of glossy rectangles spangled with lights and colors: the children's section of the bookstore.

trembled
When his voice spikes, he covers his mouth with trembling hands. He had been striving for an impression of generous ease and calm. Now he looks child-like, afraid to be punished for displaying strong emotion.

Week in Seven Words #408

booty
Their yard sale is set up on a street corner, and it looks like they've unloaded a pirate ship. There are chests of different sizes, exotic rugs, a sword, grimacing sculptures that look like idols swiped from a jungle altar. (The sword is fake, as it turns out.)

breakable
There's little space in the sculpture shop, and I'm afraid to move. The sculptures are thin and fragile, with wavy contours and ornaments made to snap off at the errant touch of a shoulder.

determined
He sets the toddler loose, and she aims unerringly for the puddle. He picks her up just as the tips of her feet touch the edge and sets her down several feet away. Immediately she swerves and heads for the puddle again.

downtime
The low seat by the window on the second floor of the bookstore: a place for people to pause and take stock of their day (or life), or burrow into a book for a while. Today a nanny is there, leaning her forehead against the window while the baby lies across her lap, asleep.

imbibed
During Trivial Pursuit, he keeps hoping I'll trip up on Sports & Leisure. After several questions about athletes I'd never heard of competing at sports I rarely watch, I get a question about a mixed drink I enjoyed the week before. That's more like it.

misread
Halfway through reviewing the text, I realize that I've been reading 'garish' as 'garnish.' That makes a difference. Also, I'm probably hungry.

uncovering
A rare moment when we're alone, and I discover that without the constraints of other people, we're able to speak freely and find common interests we didn't know we shared.

Week in Seven Words #393

assistance
The cart with her belongings clanks against the walls and comes to an uncertain stop at the head of the stairs. Twice, a neighbor passing by helps her move something down to the U-Haul. Another time, it's a homeless guy who makes five bucks for the box he carries.

gather
She joins me at the synagogue that evening. I sit on a cardboard box at her left arm. The seats and floors are filled with people.

gone
One of the stories we hear: A concentration camp inmate, given an opportunity by the Red Cross to send a postcard to someone, realizes there may be no one left who cares whether he's alive or not.

minute
The storage facility reminds me of a video game where you need to adjust your speed and timing to keep from getting shut out and having to start over. The entry doors will stay open for ten seconds, the elevator doors for seven or eight. If you hit someone with your cart, you lose points. Lower level, make a right, then another right. If you hit the walls with your cart, you lose points.

overhead
Street after street, there are empty storefronts, evidence of high rent blight. To run a small business in this environment has become untenable for many.

salable
Hanging baskets of flowers at the farmer's market, nuts and chocolates too. Only the meat and seafood seem suspicious in their sweating coolers.

storybook
On both sides of a narrow apartment building, there are sunny, vibrant gardens with raised beds of flowers, a small fountain spilling its melody, and a gazebo where a woman and her grandchild sit among piles of picture books.

Week in Seven Words #391

artwork
The pond reflects a mosaic of leaves.

blink
If I'm not in front of them, do I exist to them? (Like an object permanence test, but for relationships.)

botheration
How much I've entrusted to computer systems I don't control, and the irritation and sometimes fear when they don't work for reasons poorly understood.

breather
She takes her break at a picnic table, a mason jar of flowers at her elbow, her clipboards laid aside.

foil
The water spreads across the harbor in overlapping sheets, the edges stained with sunlight.

plumping
They've brought what seems to be every kind of greasy, salty, sweet processed food to their picnic and the kind of folding chairs that cut your legs out from under you and make you give up on standing. We're in for a satisfying, sedentary stupor.

rarity
Coming across a small bookstore. Feeling wonder and a pang of worry, as if I'm in the presence of an endangered species.

Week in Seven Words #266

diligence
She shows me how she's patiently worked her way towards a difficult yoga pose, adjusting her legs in increments over weeks. Now she sits with serenity, as if the arrangement of her lower body doesn't register in her conscious mind.

employed
Her job duties include ignoring the phone and investigating vacation spots on Google Maps.

hushed
The sun turns to ashes behind an aluminum fence.

mildly
A mug of tea warming my hands. A conversation that passes with no bitter words.

pulse
The dog, calming on my lap, is a pounding heartbeat wrapped in hair.

stale
The store smells of sawdust and wheaty things. Breathy acoustic versions of pop songs make background noise.

venipuncture
She sinks the needle into one arm, then the other. Gives me a bewildered look, as if to ask, "Are you human?" and leaves to search for a second phlebotomist: the one I call "The Vein Whisperer," who trails her fingers along my forearms, taps the skin, holds the needle poised above the surfacing vessel.

Week in Seven Words #212 & 213

212

confinement
A young tree strait-jacketed by ice.

contorted
In black and white film: the grace of a ballerina and the grip of polio.

engulfed
A snow drift has swallowed up another small business.

fluffy
Sinking a fork into a marble chocolate cheesecake.

outsourcing
It's scary when you realize how much other people have staked their happiness on you, convincing you along the way that you're responsible for their moods.

tribunal
This is the dynamic at the table: there are those who can do no wrong, those who can do nothing right, and those who are judged right or wrong without consistency, based on how their hair looks at a given moment or on what shirt they picked out to wear.

untouched
Sometimes at a restaurant the best moment is when the food just arrives. It looks delicious. At that moment, you think there can be nothing wrong with it.

NYC Window-Shopping Walk: Columbus Circle to 5th Avenue to Greenwich Village

This past Thursday, the temperatures peaked in the high 40s, maybe low 50s (Fahrenheit), which is practically a heat wave considering what the winter's been like. Good weather for a walk.

It starts in Columbus Circle.


Walk south to 57th, and then head east, past Carnegie Hall and the Russian Tea Room:


And an antique shop offering wares that look enchanted or cursed:

Week in Seven Words #194

bibliophile
It's a book store of the kind that's harder to find: cluttered, disorganized and rich with the scent of old books. Except for the wind chimes tingling at the door, it's silent. You can bring yourself to believe this is an entry into a new land, a magical shop on a mundane street.

intergalactic
The bridge at night looks like a grand landing strip for alien spacecraft.

neutrality
I give thanks to those who are buffers. The people who help keep tactless individuals more tactful, who help keep habitual combatants from talking or making eye contact. They're the people who fill the silence with neutral conversation. Thanks in part to them, we can get through a meal without a scene.

obliviousness
She stands at the door and declines the instructor's invitation to join the class. "I can only stick around for a few minutes," she says. For the next half hour, she rustles around in her multiple shopping bags and asks questions that take a while to arrive at the question mark.

prepackaged
The store is bright and bland, all wisdom neatly packaged in new books.

satiated
A pita bursting with meat and hummus and vegetables.

secondhand
Who has read this book before, and what did they think of it? Why did they highlight this passage? Why did they sell it?

Week in Seven Words #177

curiosities
What do we learn in museums? Sometimes it's only 'oohs' and 'ahhs' and a fact or two. How many times do we really connect with what we're seeing - immerse ourselves in it?

discomposure
He flies around the souvenir shop like an agitated moth, landing on treasures and launching off them again. Finally, he clutches a prize to his chest, but keeps circling as he's told to put it down again.

flirtation
A butterfly lands on her shirt front, right on her breasts. She stares at it, eyebrows raised, until it flutters off. "Must be a boy," she says.

hives
Palatial buildings are home to the offices of petty bureaucrats.

jigsaw
The White House is beautiful, but in a strange way looks like a hollow 3D puzzle of itself.

morphemes
Fun word games give structure to the hours we spend on the road.

natation
Swimming through images captured by Hubble. Strolling in a warm, gray drizzle. Looking out from between low-hanging branches at the Tidal Basin and Jefferson's pale monument.

Week in Seven Words #172

attentive
Beneath a tree that's touching the ground with its upper branches, they read the Ten Commandments. People listen quietly and eat ice cream.

forced
He thinks that if he stops telling jokes, he'll be boring. People will wonder why they're talking to him. So he doesn't relax. It's a fine day outside, and he's got a kindly, patient audience, but he can't stop forcing the jokes.

goofiness
Without prompting, he belts out a funny song and acts out all the voices. Silliness can be beautiful.

oenophile
A large dog in a wine shop, moseying among the shelves.

reactions
Because we all talk when watching TV, it still winds up being quality time with them. In reaction to what's on the screen, they reveal things about what they think and feel, and they ask questions.

tête-à-tête
A bench beneath a tree by a fountain. The shadows in the afternoon move slowly.

wearying
I look around, and I can't truthfully say I'm eager to meet any of them.

Week in Seven Words #114

banqueting
The meal reminds me in some ways of a medieval feast. There are story-tellers, singers, a court jester, knights clashing from time to time in a joust. A dog wakes up from its long nap beneath the table to lap up flakes of matzah from the chairs and floor.

chef de cuisine
All day she's in the kitchen cooking, and here and there we jump in and help her, though for the most part she wants it to be a solo operation. She takes pride in her ability to single-handedly cater multiple feasts. There's chicken, lamb, beef with yams, and turkey, potatoes with prunes, matzah ball soup, glazed carrots, broccoli, beets, and Brussels sprouts. Charoset too (apples, bananas, nuts, wine, cinnamon, and a little honey mixed together in a blender). Am I leaving anything out? Salads, can't forget those. Anything else? Probably.

inflorescence
Many streets in downtown Philly have become gardens. The narrower ones have a roof of pink blossoms. Daffodils grow from windowboxes, and cherry trees spread their branches over brick courtyards. By the side of an unpaved parking lot tulips have sprung up.

kneydlekh (קניידלעך)
Matzah balls made from scratch with a family recipe are addictive, full of fluffy doughy goodness.

olfactory
A dog noses through fallen magnolia blossoms.

patellae
In a battle of Lego figurines, my knees are a part of the terrain. Opposing forces stand on them and lob incendiary Lego weapons at each other.

undervalue
They're real flowers, but in their surroundings they seem fake. Planted next to racks of designer purses and sunglasses and aisles that smell of perfume and new shoes, their tropical colors have the luster of plastic.

A long walk on a beautiful day

Sunday afternoon in Union Square (NYC) people were asked to write or draw what makes them happy on a post-it note, to add to a growing collection.



Many things make me happy but the one I put down was a "long walk on a beautiful day," which is what I got to enjoy Sunday afternoon (in case you're wondering, the lady in the photo isn't me - for one thing I've got dark hair, and it rarely stays in a neat ponytail).

I could have also put down "upside-down elephants." Those make me happy.



So do pretty flowers by the sidewalk.





And eerie or mysterious window displays.





I was also treated to a display of raw nature. It's not that I like watching pigeons getting eaten, but I've never seen a hawk feast on a pigeon before.



In Tompkins Square Park there was a hawk up in a tree relishing pigeon innards, as about thirty people stood around taking photos of it (that's what drew me to the scene to begin with - that, and the way the hawk would occasionally lift its head and cry out, maybe to warn us off, as if we'd be interested in taking the pigeon from it. The cry of a hawk is startling, especially when you hear it right off of Avenue A).



I'm pretty sure it was a hawk. There were some people present who seemed to be experts on birds and called it a hawk. But if any of you know for a fact that this can't be a hawk but must be some other predatory bird, leave a comment.

What else caught my eye on yesterday's walk...

Not only upside-down elephants but pink elephants. And yawning lions.



It really was a beautiful walk.