Manhattan Green

Manhattan Green

Walking through the Yorkville section of NYC with friends yesterday, I came across two unexpected sights:

One was a stately clapboard townhouse wedged between two large brownstones, situated on a typical city street filled with dry cleaners, doggie boutiques, and nail salons. The townhouse, a throwback to what old New York, or Yorkville, must have looked like in the late 18th century, clearly could not house a 9 x 12 carpet in its midst. This slender beauty—at least from outside appearances—was meticulously kept. A wrought iron fenced front garden led invitingly into a basement apartment below. The front door of the townhouse, though, contained no wreath or remnant of holiday cheer. It didn’t need to; modest charm sufficed.

The second sight, catty-corner to the clapboard townhouse, revealed a discarded Christmas tree with multiple strands of twinkle lights intact. After obligatory remarks about the wealthy and dispensable cash, I made a few furtively unsuccessful attempts to snatch the lights to use on next year’s tree, but only now do I pause to think about the degradability of these wires and lights, and the fact that someone (a city worker) will have to stop and painstakingly untangle and disengage the strands before the tree succumbs to mulch for the City’s gardens and children’s parks.

Whoever discarded the tree, lights intact, may have had a good reason. Who knows? Nevertheless, the hastiness reminds me of how quickly we move to end the awaited holidays, to signal a new beginning, clear out the cupboards, so to speak, and maybe end the waste. I want to believe that “end the waste” will be my motto for ‘08.

M.