Lakeside Esplanade

The new lakeside is open for 4 hours each weekend day from Oct. 20 through November. I headed out last weekend during the pinkest of all events -a breast cancer walk-a-thon in Prospect Park.

My approach.

The stone near the drum circle.

No one was around.

Low, dappled light and asters.

Strong bones.

Imagine the ducks here.

For reasons unknown to me, the paved path doesn't move continuously along the waters edge. One must go around an area with trees and shrubs to get to the other side.

Which makes me wonder why this "path is built into the planting behind the wall. Is it because they know people will tramp back here or do they not know?

I am glad they retained the WWI monument. I'm not a fan of the structure, but I'm fond of the statue.

Evocative of the great death and misery of WWI, its deco-gothic figures are haunting in the way few war memorials allow.

On the other side, the "indoor" rink. Minimal, airy, yet hard-edged. An outdoor rink sits beside, but the whole affair sinks back into the landscape. Some will have trouble with its blunt angularity, but the whole building complex, from lakeside, does not overwhelm.

There are lawns.

Construction is nicely executed.

And Abe finally has a place that doesn't feel like a back alley.

And, yes! They finally fixed the stairs that lead to Abe. The easiest job has taken years.

These urns were updated, restored, repaired, recast? However, they're new.

But not these, just down the path.

Turning back, a view toward "Music Island" where music is no longer made.

I imagine this a view of what Prospect Park must've looked like in the 19th century. We are lucky to have it so late in the game.

Between chaos and order there is only maintenance. And what plans has Prospect Park Alliance or Parks for maintaining its new jewel? Some staff who were tying wire to a hole cut in the chain link mounted on the slope of the music grove spoke frankly -there's little chance of this holding up as far as they can tell. 

An obvious point of departure: The nicely detailed fencing is hardly barrier to those eager to head out onto the peninsula.

It beckons, a vanishing point leading your eye to a place all your own. Leap that fence, hangout unmolested by the strollers; drink 40s, smoke, enjoy what nature intended. Let's get the clean up and restore volunteer group ready.

On my way out of the park, I found the swarm of pink had grown. I could see them marching way across the lake as well as before me. I imagined they circled the park entirely. They beat drums, danced, whistled, and carried signs.

And the stone that was painted to resemble the autumn leaves had been turned pink (ish).

And I made my way out of the park, passing through the muck below the lake.