In 2010 Mrs. T and I moved to Hudson Heights, the highest natural point on the island of Manhattan. To get there from Washington Heights, you have to ascend a steep staircase, and in the spring of 2011 I incorporated it into my daily walk. Nothing could possibly have been better for a middle-aged man of decidedly sedentary habits. Alas, the winter just past was so miserable and prolonged that I fell off the wagon and gave up walking altogether. Today, though, spring returned to New York with so decisive a splash of sunshine that I put on my walking shoes and hit the road again.
I snapped this picture as I stood at the foot of the staircase, preparing to bite the bullet. You’ll note the presence of an ambulance from our neighborhood hospital. It wasn’t there for me, nor did I need it when I got to the top of the stairs, but it did serve as a pointed reminder of why I walk.
No, it wasn’t easy for me to slog up those one hundred and twenty-eight steps after so long a layoff. Nevertheless, I did it–and I plan to do it again tomorrow.
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The Ahmad Jamal Trio plays “Spring Is Here” in 1955:
Terry Teachout on the arts in New York City
