Prospect: A Year in the Park

Gold, standard

At today's Grand Army Plaza Greenmarket, a soft November sun turned so much to molten gold. It was like a child's picture-book version of Thanksgiving bounty.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Peppers, incredibly, are still abundant, although one has to pick to avoid those with soft wrinkly cheeks; eggplant and zucchini from southern Jersey were also remarkably good.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I gave the summer veg one last chance, deciding to wait on things like this golden cauliflower that peeked from its bonnet of leaves. These and the other cruciferous guys will be around a good while longer.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Apples are still at peak. The Honeycrisp variety is more expensive, but has an extra flavor note that I think of as "gingersnap."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On hand today were Emily and Melissa Elsen, the enterprising young ladies behind Four & Twenty Blackbirds, a superb pie establishment I have haunted down near the Gowanus. Their new cookbook, The Four & Twenty Blackbirds Pie Book, looks phenomenal and has the magic instructions for making Salted Honey Pie, my current addiction. I enjoyed a wonderful conversation about all things Pie (although I stopped short of an exposition of my theory of the Pieness of Pie). and assured them that the book will shoot to the very top of my Christmas list.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The backdrop for today's market was a scrim of gold, russet, and a bit of green. This tree is one of the park's brand-new youngsters, a sapling with the mighty task of replacing some of the countless trees lost to Sandy and Irene. It sheds its leaves onto the history-rich soil of Prospect Park for the very first time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

GREENMARKET DOG OF THE DAY

Moses is a 7-year-old English bulldog who was born in Pennsylvania. His human says Moses likes chilling on soft blankets. I would love to join him in that.

 

Blue and gold

This morning's Grand Army Plaza Greenmarket was in pre-Hallowe'en Technicolor.

 

Pumpkins, of course, and gourds, and children begging and comparing and choosing. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Peppers, still gorgeous.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Always some old-timey musicians on hand; this lad sought Mumford paternity (in vain).

 

We got a chunk of swordfish and a few delicata squash; grilled the swordfish by flashlight (the days are shortening so quickly!) and roasted the squash slices with apples and onions and rosemary. Between now and Thanksgiving is such a wonderful time of gold and orange; why is the commercial world so intent on obliterating it under a tide of red and green?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

GREENMARKET DOG OF THE DAY

Poor lute player; for high-impact facial hair, this Belgian Griffon named Milos had him beat. Milos's buddy, a black Griffon named Raspberry, was short-haired and resembled a bat-like pug, but wouldn't pose for me; Milosz is greeting a new acquaintance, in what turned into a freeform canine speed-date.

Choppers and cheesecake: POTUS in Brooklyn

I didn't make it over to the park to check out the Secret Service action yesterday afternoon in Prospect Park, but watched from our window on the southern perimeter as two impressive presidential choppers descended past the treeline to land on the ballfields.

 

 

 

 

 

The entire park was originally announced as closed (prompting Green-Wood Cemetery to extend an invitation to joggers to exert themselves among the dead for the afternoon), but apparently it was a less than total lock-down. A friend reported that dozens thronged the cordoned-off landing area; our friends at the Ditmas Park Corner blog have more coverage of the "historic visit."

 

 

 

 

Photo: Gothamist

After his pep talk to kids at an innovative high school in Crown Heights (where with astounding originality he was reported to have declared Brooklyn even "cooler" than when he briefly lived here after college), Obama paid an obligatory visit to Junior's, the overrated tourist deli, for a cheesecake run. He reportedly got the plain, which is still good, but also the glob-encrusted vile strawberry, alas. He was shadowed (literally) by the mayor-all-but-elect, De Blasio; but where was Marty, our Clown Prince? I didn't see him capering about; maybe De Blasio's flunkies had him duct-taped to a chair in Borough Hall?

 

Supermoon over 'Tropfest'

I'd never heard of "Tropfest," a festival of short films that began years ago in Australia, but tonight it came to the Nethermead under a gorgeous moonrise.

Parts of the Nethermead are still recovering from Googa-Mooga-induced wounds. Mercifully, this was a less hyped and frantically overcrowded event than Googa, and had more compelling content than flights of bacon (although a line of food trucks served up trendy chow; I idiotically waited for 45 minutes for a burger with, yes, bacon).

 

 

 

 

 

 

There were bands and DJs from 3 p.m. on and a great big screen, although naturally many folks found their smaller ones more compelling.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Liev Schrieber (whom I've seen only as the angry older brother in "Defiance") was a gracious and engaging host. He and his gal Naomi Watts were mobbed by pro/am camera-wielders. Malcolm Gladwell and Leonard Lopate were present as judges.

 

We could stay for only the first half of the program, enjoyed all the films we saw, but loved a super-brief, spooky one called "Capture" about an encounter with a strange camera on the Brooklyn Bridge. (Each film had to include some manner of "bridge" motif.)  It did not capture one of the top prizes, however.

 

 

 

This dog captured a chunk of food right out of the hands of an unsuspecting group of picnickers who had been heedlessly chatting in Chinese. He managed to swallow it before his owner, a beleaguered dad with an infant and preschooler in tow, could pry it out of his mouth. I love it when a dog wins once in a while.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As we left, the supermoon competed with the jumbo screen, the food trucks were still dishing out $7 hot dogs, and a happy crowd was sprawled on the grass savoring the second night of summer.

 

Sea of greens

The sugar snap pea avalanche has arrived! I've been snacking on them incessantly. Pulling the string out of the pod is intensely pleasurable if you are as obsessive as I am.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Quadriga, as seen from flower-pot level. I love the juxtaposition of these noble steeds in the sky atop their arch of triumph...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...gazing down at all the rural goodness and its assorted celebrants.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

GREENMARKET DOG OF THE DAY

It was a dark and stormy night.  A pit bull followed a man down the street. She was emaciated and wounded; her rescuers believe she may have been used as a "bait" dog in fighting rings. But the story of Maggie, who was rehabilitated and adopted, has a happy ending. Although she can still be a little too assertive with other dogs, said her owner, this girl is so gentle she snorgles babies.

 

 

 

   Abandoned pit bulls fill our Brooklyn animal shelters, in desperate need of homes; their new owners sing their praises as loving and loyal. Maggie agrees.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pinkmarket, bluemarket

Before sampling the madness of yesterday's GoogaMooga Festival, I did make it to the Greenmarket at Grand Army Plaza. Rhubarb was still a painful $5 a pound (it takes a lot of raw rhubarb to make a pot of stewed rhubarb, and I cannot get through spring without a pot of stewed rhubarb). However, local strawberries were "down" to 2 boxes for $10. Sigh.

What caught my eye were the flowers. It's a great time of year for tender, old-fashioned ones that few commercial florists ever carry. Above: Dame's Rocket, a.k.a. Hesperis. In my garden, this flower refuses to grow anywhere except between the cracks of cement; there is nothing like a dame.

I believe these are "Bachelor's Buttons," a.k.a. Cornflowers. (Apparently they grow wild in some cornfields.) Now when someone describes "cornflower-blue eyes," you can verify.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I don't know what these are. If I had a SmartPhone, could I get an app that would let me wave my phone over a blossom and identify it? If you know what these are, leave a comment and let me know!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

GREENMARKET DOG OF THE DAY

The fringed sausage is definitely named Banjo. Her big buddy is named something serious that begins with G...Grimsby? Anyway, they are great friends. It's nice to know a friend has your back...literally.

 

Blue sky over Church Avenue

Just a block south of the Parade Grounds of Prospect Park, Church Avenue has slumbered for years, a strip of scruffy retail nothingness. But word on the street is that Church is poised for a long-awaited rebirth, and today, its first street fair looked like a wild success.

Meet some of my neighbors on "our side" of the park.

    

In the middle is Dr. Courtney Perry and Geneva (a rescued friend and patient) in front of her new veterinary practice, PAWSitive. She's a Wellesley and Cornell grad who's come home to Ditmas Park, and we're very glad.

   

More dog excellence: a Noble Pitbull and a Chillin' Husky, both rescues. (Note: There is, yet to come, a Greenmarket Dog of the Day!)

Another eagerly welcomed newcomer to the strip is Am Thai Bistro, whose absurdly gorgeous staff were dishing up curry puffs, coconut rice balls and spring rolls.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sensory overload for small fry. Sometimes good...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...sometimes not so much.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The vendors were the usual suspects (including sausages and crew socks, those street-fair essentials), but there were also Latin-themed totes and tiny suits with ties.

 

   

Robopuppy? Copter-on-a-stick? Cheap machine gun?

 

 

Congratulations to the Church Avenue BID, whose efforts to breathe life into this languishing corridor have begun to bear fruit. A coffee shop called Lark is in the works,  joining mom-and-pop ventures like Shayna's roti shop and La Huasteca, so wander on down after a soccer match or a tennis game; Cortelyou Road, look to your laurels. And chefs, merchants, countrymen, come on down; as you can see from the montage of fine novelty wares above, Church Avenue lends a magical glow to any merchandise.

GREENMARKET DOG OF THE DAY

Behold the charming Bica, strolling with an old friend of mine at Saturday's Grand Army Plaza Greenmarket. He is a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, and his name is a slang term used around Lisbon for espresso.  Appropriately enough, he enjoyed licking the foam from my latte.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In search of Happy Light in 2012

This winter, I'm throwing the book at SAD; I even bought a Verilux "HappyLight"®, before which I slumped in the frigid pre-dawn this morning. But I'm also determined to use Prospect Park as my full-spectrum light therapy...and to recommit to the daily park visits that prompted this chronicle three years ago. New Year's Day was spent in the HappyDark of the movies and a German restaurant, but on Monday afternoon I dragged Spouse to see the sun's last rays gild the lake.

 

 

 

 

 

And this morning, I braved the bitter wind to see the sun peer over the treeline behind the Long Meadow.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The dogs were already out in force, jubilant in the bitter air. (Which reminds me: My limited edition of Park Bark: At Play with the Dogs of Brooklyn, a photo celebration of the park's dogs and their owners, is getting close to sold out! Thanks to all who ordered a copy for a holiday present, and if you'd like to get in an order (Valentine's Day approacheth), by all means go here and let me know if you'd like a dedication written on the flyleaf.)

 

 

 

 

 

WACKY TREE OF THE DAY

Monday afternoon, I spied what looked like a bunch of lime-colored, corrugated softballs in the leaves, under a thicket of thorny branches. One clung to the tree overhead. I struggled through the thorns and pocketed one to identify later. As I suspected, it was an Osage orange (Maclura pomifera). I've heard of these in the park but never found one before.

 

Here are some cool facts about Osage oranges:

* They are related to the mulberry, and are not citruses. (The fruits supposedly smell a little orangey, but mine didn't.)

* Few animals except horses eat the fleshy fruit (technically called a drupe), which is inedible and mildly poisonous to humans--but an extinct ground sloth may once have relished it as a slothalicious treat. Some folks also claim bug-repellent properties for the fruit, which exudes a milky sap (as I discovered when I sliced it open).

* Its nicknames include "hedge apple" and "horse apple." Grown as a hedge, it predated barbed wire as a way to fence in cattle.

* The tree's wood has been prized by bow-makers dating back to the Comanches for its flexibility and strength; early French settlers called it bois d'arc, or "bow wood."

* Merriwether Lewis sent cuttings of Osage orange to Thomas Jefferson.

Happy New Year...see you in the park!

Solstice lookout

Sunset, the day of the solstice; the sun was vanishing behind the buildings of Windsor Terrace by 3:30 p.m. I wanted, Druid-like, to capture its last rays, so I headed up Lookout Hill, the tallest point in Prospect Park.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lookout Hill is one of those spots in the park that one is warned against visiting alone, but when leafless, it seems exposed as well as remote. Condom wrappers and other nasty bits attest to its seclusion, but even in waning daylight I felt fairly safe with the occasional jogger...and an intrepid mom and kids who were using the hill as a family Stairmaster.

 

 

 

 

 

The flattish, circular top of Lookout Hill would be a great place for a Wiccan ceremony to worship the distant sun, but for a while I was completely alone. To the south, I could see...good grief, was that the Coney Island parachute jump? It was. Turning a few degress to my left, I looked down on the lake and away to the erstwhile fields of Flatbush where we live.

 

 

 

 

 

As I left the park, the festive decor glowed in the shadows.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

BARKING MAD THANKS!

...to all who have ordered a copy of Park Bark: At Play with the Dogs of Brooklyn, my photo homage book to the canines of Prospect Park and their owners.   Go here for easy PayPal ordering...and remember, Valentine's Day is coming up fast!

'Park Bark': A love story

Meet the Book!

Just (as they say) in time for Christmas, comes Park Bark: At Play with the Dogs of Brooklyn. It's the first book of photography based on my three years of exploring Prospect Park. Of all the subjects I considered, the dogs won, hands-down.

 

 

 

 

 

 

As I say in the introduction, "The idea was to visit Brooklyn's magnificent Prospect Park every day and share my discoveries. Among many treasures, from wildlife to historic architecture, I kept discovering...dogs. And to my delight, they kept discovering me, despite my being a 'cat person.' I've never had a dog, I don't speak dog, but the park's cavalcade of canines bowled me over with exuberant delight."

 

Many of the 17 portraits in the book are of "Greenmarket Dogs of the Week," a gallery of irresistible characters I've met at Grand Army Plaza. There are also lovely shots of the Long Meadow, Dog Beach, the Nethermead, and other spaces where Brooklynites cut loose on two legs or four. The book is a 5-by-7-inch hardcover with lovely color reproduction; it is $16, every copy will be signed by yours-truly-the-noted-blogger, and a bunch of copies of this very limited edition (also designed by herself) are already spoken for, so if you want to tuck this in the stocking of a dog lover, Brooklynite (current or past or future), or Prospect Park fan, please let me know FAST and I'll get one to you.

Right now, there are three ways to own a signed copy of Park Bark:

1.  Come to the home-studio sale being given by artist Karen Friedland and me this weekend, Dec. 17 and 18, at 190 Marlborough Road (near Beverly Road) in Ditmas Park; hours are 1 to 6 p.m. both days.

2. Go to Tenth Leper Press, my independent bookie-wook project, and order via PayPal.

3. Contact me at brenda (at) tenthleper (dot) us with special requests.

And if you can prove that one of the dogs in the book is yours: your copy is free!