SOMEONE PLAYED a trick on me, and asked me to share some photos with you FB friends while I am in Manhattan. The Big City. I readily agreed, and now I can’t stop. I see beauty everywhere, and particularly in the grand park in the heart of the city, that draws me like a moth to a flame. Today, with a couple free hours after my recording work, I once again traipsed the trails. I found the calling of jays and the singing of flowing water, the soft voice of the titmouse, and even—wonder of wonders—the song of my favorite singer of the North Woods wilderness, the white-throated sparrow.

Meanwhile there were lovely scenes everywhere, especially in the wild ‘Ramble,’ where, in quiet moments, I could almost imagine the Manahatta of the original Lenape people. Ginkgos, oaks, and sycamores flaunted their colors, and beside the ponds, maples were on fire. I called to the white-throats and none came, but a cardinal did, landing close beside me and wondering at the man talking like a bird.

Lovers walked hand in hand, some folks sat on the black, rocky outcrops, a man played an accordion—beautifully—and someone simply lay upon the bosom of the Earth, finding, one would hope, some comfort there. Beauty is to be found everywhere on this third planet from the sun; and the fact that here—on one of the busiest, most crowded, most expensive pieces of real estate in the world—people have decided to save rooom for trees and rocks and ponds and squirrels, is one of the happiest things I have found lately. Come on, go for a walk with me.