I’ve done a lot of Spodek Method commitments. I’ve loved them all, at least I don’t remember disliking any, but haven’t recorded many of them here, but liked posting My Spodek Method commitment to make water ice from snow: A photo essay last month. I did another one over the weekend and took a few pictures to share.

The memories of nature stemmed from Wissahickon Creek and the park around it near where I grew up. Here are pictures of part of that park though also a story of being mugged there (incident #2) and a bike stolen.

I remembered a conversation with my dad walking along the creek. Most of my conversations with him didn’t go well, at least since high school in the 1980s, but this one that I recalled went great, a few years before he died, so maybe eight or ten years ago. I attributed the conversation going well to walking in nature.

I know that my sister walks a lot in a park near her, in Queens, so I committed this time to walking with her in that park (for the record, if she didn’t join, I would go to a part anyway, since while committing myself I couldn’t commit her, which is part of the Spodek Method).

We meant to go earlier, but New York City has had a bunch of snow and cold that made it harder to explore, but Saturday worked. As it turns out, Sunday saw another blizzard, so it’s under another foot of snow today.

Anyway, here’s the park:

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I think I can speak for her enough to say that we had a great time. Talking while walking in a park is different than in the city or indoors when multiple family members are figuring out who sits where and what to do for dinner and all that nicknack stuff that goes into events. It’s peaceful, meandering, and unimportant in a way that makes it more important for life, just not for what drives much of American life, like productivity, efficiency, GDP growth.

Here’s another view. There are several roads through this park. I took this picture to show what you can’t see, but there are athletic fields on the other side of the road.

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There was this cool rock. Partly I took the picture to show it, partly to show the litter all over. Anyone who walks with me in the city hears what probably sounds to them like me complaining or lamenting about litter and people who litter, but it’s really about our potential to clean, not to create what becomes litter in the first place, and to appreciate nature’s beauty.

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Here’s a closer view of the litter. I think these big syringe things are a toy for alcohol. My sister dislikes litter as much as I do, as well as dog poop left illegally by owners, so we both talked about it. She also talked about the neighbors she knows from frequenting the park so much, many plants she’s learned of, the birds and other life we saw, family, history, and more.

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On the way back from the park to her home, we passed a small shop selling tchotckes. I wasn’t looking, but noticed this bulb with the word love in it, which seemed to compliment the experience so felt it would end this post well.

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Then I saw a few other things with the word, so finished with three more.

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