The Sign Of Spring

Today was a mild day so I hug out at Washington Square Park for a while. During the late 1960s and early 1970s I hung out here as a young man. Back then there were people playing guitars, bongos and banjos. There were people reciting poems and political oratories. There was dance, theater, and classical music. What I remember most was talking with strangers as if we knew each other. It was very communal in that we are more alike than we realize.

Washington Square Park has been remodeled but the same fare is still evident now as it was back then. I took some pictures to show what I viewed and experienced today. I thought about it later said that all forms of art were performed in the same park. People of all ages and races sat on benches and took it all in.

As I left the park, a wave of sadness swept over me;so much so I nearly wept right there on the street. . Places where people can express themselves through the arts are disappearing. Informal gatherings are what make my time and life worth living. Here I am this quiet and shy person who feels invigorated by such settings. Washington Square Park has always been a place for such things. I pray that it is not taken away through repression and suppression of the communal spirit.