Take the A Train
NYC never fails to amaze me.
Beyond Harlem, where the A train is no longer an express, and Manhattan Island thins to a sliver, if you get off the subway around 190th Street, and walk about a half mile on cobblestone paths that wind along the Hudson River you will discover The Cloisters.
The monastic communities have it right: rest, contemplation and gardening. If you throw in a few days of complete silence and daily liturgy of the hours I could consider signing up. Of course, only if the Ladies Aid went with me. Oh, and if we could bring laptops. And contraband was permitted.
I see Madge diligently pruning -- controlling nature one bonsai at a time.
Beyond Harlem, where the A train is no longer an express, and Manhattan Island thins to a sliver, if you get off the subway around 190th Street, and walk about a half mile on cobblestone paths that wind along the Hudson River you will discover The Cloisters.
The monastic communities have it right: rest, contemplation and gardening. If you throw in a few days of complete silence and daily liturgy of the hours I could consider signing up. Of course, only if the Ladies Aid went with me. Oh, and if we could bring laptops. And contraband was permitted.
I see Madge diligently pruning -- controlling nature one bonsai at a time.
posted by mrn at 6:03 PM
2 Comments:
ohhh.... rita......you have talked about being cloistered for a week (or weekend) forever. sooner or later, it has to happen. that place looks like quite a place to "make contemplation". BRING IT.
Yes. Nature in a highly regulated form. I love it. In a previous lifetime, I was a cloistered nun. The world inside the walls -- has a certain appeal.
Post a Comment
<< Home