Rockefeller Park

When you come across a beautifully landscaped green space in New York City, it's a pretty safe bet you've found a park that's beyond the purview of the New York City Department of Parks & Recreation.

Such is the case with the parks of the Battery Park City Parks Conservancy, and one jewel in that chain is Nelson A. Rockefeller Park, named for the man who served as Gerald Ford's Vice President after a long stint of Governor of New York. You young-uns might hear the term "Rockefeller Republican" bandied about these days, as in "There are no more Rockefeller Republicans." Well, this is the guy.



Now, that's not meant as a dig at the Parks Department, which does a darned good job given limited resources and a huge number and variety of properties to maintain. But we can and should appreciate the extra mile gone by the various conservancies and tax-exempt organizations devoted to particular parks. Some neighborhoods are just richer than others, with residents who can afford to pitch in some of their riches and time to make things look extra pretty. And we can all enjoy the rich fruits of their rich-people labor.

Rockefeller Park hugs the Hudson River at the north end of the Battery Park area. Tom Otterness sculptures, collectively titled The Real World, sprawl and huddle fancifully about.





Look to the west, out over the Hudson on an early evening in late spring, and you might catch a cheery sailboat crossing in front of the Statue of Liberty.



The silhouettes of the Jersey City skyline peer across the river at the people kicking around balls (or ideas) on the green lawn:



And as the sun drops lower, the silvery-blue sky looks gorgeous.

Jefferson Market Garden

I must have walked by Jefferson Market Garden a few hundred times before I discovered one could actually visit this Greenwich Village spot.



While the greenery is plainly visible behind the high iron fence adjoining the Jefferson Market Library, the lack of a gate suggests it's a private space. And for years the garden was closed, meant only for viewing from the outside.

Surprise! Those dark days are over.

The entrance isn't on Sixth Avenue but around back, on Greenwich Avenue. And in nice weather the garden is open all day, minded by a volunteer who sits at a small table greeting visitors with a nod and a brochure.

Tucked beside the striking library (formerly a courthouse), the Garden holds within its iron bars a complete, verdant little world—on the site of the old Women's House of Detention. After the demise of that unhappy edifice in 1973, the Parks Department took over, and now, stewarded by local residents, it's a flowery, embirdened oasis of quiet right alongside the bustle of Sixth Avenue. (That's right, "embirdened." Like Sarah Palin and her idol, William Shakespeare, I can coin new words.)

In summer, the richness of the verdure, the smells of the earth, hang so thick in the air you can hardly believe you're in a city.



More unusual than robins and rhododendrons is the fish pond, full of bright golden…fish. (Do I know enough about fish to tell you what kind they are? Is the Pope Jewish?) A scarcity of benches means the garden will never get too crowded, unless there's an event like a concert—or a wedding. Apparently, Miranda got married here on Sex and the City, but thankfully, if the spot is on the route of any gawking tours, such monstrosities have never coincided with any of my visits.

Another Jefferson Market Garden plus: proximity to Roasting Plant Coffee. Just saying.

Welcome to Park Odyssey: Seeding My Collection at Collect Pond Park

New York. It's the City of Many Parks...but so little parking.

Welcome to Park Odyssey.

I'm Jon Sobel, a writer, editor, musician, Manhattanite, hiker, and lover of cities and nature alike. I plan to visit every single New York City park and document the entire saga in this blog.

According to the New York City Department of Parks & Recreation (Michael R. Bloomberg, Mayor, Adrian Benepe, Commissioner), the city is home to "more than 1,700 parks, playgrounds, and recreation facilities." The Parks Department website also says, "You can visit our Park List page to find a partial list of our parks." A partial list… better than no list, right? But the page is tough to find a link to.

Wikipedia to the rescue. Its New York City Parks List provides the link, and here's the page. What do we see? Just in the Bronx, over 300 parks—not including the properties listed as playgrounds, "park strips," or "Greenstreets" (which are greened-up medians or strips of street).

As for the unclear categories, from "sitting areas" to golf courses, we'll have to decide about them on a case by case basis. As a rule though, if there's a tree, or some grass, and a place to sit or walk about, then it probably counts as a park by my reckoning. But we'll have to cross some of those decorative park bridges when we come to them. Meanwhile, let's get started. We have a lot of parks to visit. My unofficial rough advance count: just over 1,300 of them.

There's a small park in lower Manhattan that's far from beautiful but loaded with history. (And rats, as a recent YouTube video documents. But hey, it's New York City.) There used to be a pond in Collect Pond Park, hence the name. "Collect" is a bastardization of a Dutch word; nothing was "collected" there, unless you count the water from the underground spring, which, legend has it, still springs eternal somewhere belowground. There are still puddles, but the pond is long gone, replaced by concrete, benches, trash, and a bit of greenery. At dusk, as the YouTube video demonstrates, rats overrun the little park. On a hot afternoon, pigeons gather (or "collect" if you prefer).

A Courthouse stands nearby, asserting the power of modern justice over the park and the nearby old Negro Burial Ground. In 1741, on a now vanished island in the now vanished pond, a more savage kind of "justice" played out as several African slaves were hanged and left to dangle. Altogether, some 30 people were slaughtered in a murderous panic that swept through old New York after a string of fires had brought suspicion on the city's African population. (Jill Lepore recounted the story vividly in her book New York Burning.)

What Collect Pond Park lacks in beauty, charm, and size, it more than makes up for—if you just dig a little—in ghosts.