A bright, cloudy day with a razor-like wind--no wonder the park had only a scattering of visitors this afternoon. We entered at Bartel-Pritchard Circle and I headed for a loose-knit grove of pines along the footpath. Do you see a black-capped chickadee up there? Me neither, although I heard one.
I did, however, see a flock of slate-colored juncos feeding on the ground. (They usually visit us in Flatbush twice a year, too.) Good job with the camouflage, guys, you look like muddy rocks.
I'm no whiz at winter-tree identification; a metal tag was the only clue that this was a littleleaf linden tree (Tilia cordata). Just the word "linden" sparked a yearning for the honey-scented air of a leafy June twilight, when the tiny yellow flowers of lindens (also called lime trees or basswood) perfume the streets of Brooklyn. The skeleton of the bare tree is lovely, but I want it to look like this. (Who knew Albrecht Durer did a watercolor of a linden?)
Something about my Teutonic moping over lindens said, Schubert. Wasn't there some mournful art song about lindens? Yes: Der lindenbaum, part of a song cycle called Winterreise (Winter Journey), in which the hero bemoans the lost joys of summer love. Hum a few bars and I'll fake it.
And its branches rustled
As if calling to me:
"Come here, to me, friend,
Here you will find your peace!"The frigid wind blew
Straight in my face,
My hat flew from my head,
I did not turn back.
Der Lindenbaum, Wilhelm Müller (translation, Arthur Rishi)Image: Museum Boymans-van Beuningen, Rotterdam
Glorious musical bonus:
For the very first time here at AYITP, music to wander the park by! Here is Der Lindenbaum, in a deliciously Enya-esque version by none other than Nana Mouskouri. For the authentic deal, check YouTube for Dietrich Fischer-Diskau, but trust me: This one is more fun for lieder newbies. I have trouble digesting DFD, and I'm the grandchild of a German classical musician, for gosh sake.
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