Tuesday, April 29, 2014

Field of Dreams

On one side, First Avenue with six lanes of traffic, some pouring into an underground express road or  others, mostly taxis and black diplomatic vans zipping in and out and around one another attempting to scoop up passengers or dropping them off without armed security guards getting annoyed. 

On the other side, the towering ventilation building for the Midtown Tunnel. 

And in between, in a block-long, black tar asphalt, playground yard, something I never saw before, but always heard about or read about in some story that takes place other places in America.

A father patiently teaching his little boy how to play baseball

Throwing and catching and talking and showing.  And then throwing and catching and talking and showing.   And again, throwing and catching and talking and showing...

Related Posts:

Like Father, Like Son

Sunday Memories: The Intimacy Of Men

The Definition Of Heaven On Earth

When Bliss Intersects With Home


Burninghorse said...

So good to know that this goes on in the city, not just the suburbs.

I'm a friend of Dana's and just joined your blog yesterday. Already I'm glad. Thanks!

c.o. moed said...

Delighted! Welcome! If you go to the top right side of the blog, there's a 'Search This Blog' box. Type in Dana and all the stories about her or written by her should be listed. She's an amazing writer and one of my dearest muses.

Burninghorse said...

Thank you. I've read a number of them already and will continue: they're amazing. You have a shared sensitivity and ability to capture what's important. My name is Charlotte and I plan to continue enjoying your blog. You're such a precious person to Dana; I see why.