Brooklyn Botanic Garden

At the Brooklyn Botanic Garden

Two weekends ago I went with friends to the Brooklyn Botanic Gardens. It was about a week after a rare tornado ripped through the borough and damaged a large number of trees. Indeed, the storm’s visitation was in evidence all up and down the streets adjacent the botanic garden. Having lived much of my life in Michigan (where tornadoes are not a rare occurrence) I was all too familiar with similar sights.

Inside the garden, the storm’s ravages were visible – but already managed. The garden is a wonderful wedge of land in the midst of the borough of Brooklyn . . . planned gardens of trees, flowers, shrubs, and other plants. It was a beautiful world contained within the city full of worlds that is New York.

It was Saturday morning and the gardens were open free of charge to anyone who could muster the energy to make it there between ten and noon. We made it in time (a small miracle, given that not one of us is a morning person).

We were treated to an amusing (and concerning) sight on the way in. We first attempted to park on a nearby street before going into the gardens. But then we noticed a laser printed sign (looking very much homemade . . . as though a neighbour had cooked them up) that declared there would be no parking on that day and that a temporary tow zone was in effect. There were no official seals. It purported to be an ‘NYPD Notice’ – but that was it. Was the sign to be believed? Or was someone simply trying to make their wrestling with a moving van a bit easier? Then came a police car that went up and down the street telling people to move their cars or they would be towed. The officer paraded back and forth with a bull horn for about half an hour.

We parked on an adjacent street in order to avoid the misfortune of a towing experience. On the way to the main gate we discussed how unfortunate it would be to be one of the people with a car on that street. It looked very much like they’d received no prior notice of the ban on parking.

Then a man came up and nervously enquired if it was alright to park on the street where we had just parked our vehicle. ‘Yes, we think so. There were signs on that street . . . but the ones on this street are for dates last weekend.’ He shook his head and expressed a lack of confidence that we were in the clear. ‘This is New York – they do [crap] like that all the time. At least I know that if I get towed you’re screwed too.’

Ah yes, the essence of solidarity.

We still heard the policeman with the bull horn as we watched the goldfish in the Japanese Garden.

My favourite part was the area laid out with rows of cherry trees. It reminded me of images I’ve seen of royal gardens in Europe. It was the perfect combination of trees and green grass.

There is always wonder in seeing the magical, miniature worlds that New York contains. The Brooklyn Botanic Garden is one of those amazing places. If one were to visit New York as a tourist it would not likely be one of the spots on the travel itinerary. But one thing I am learning is that the places most worth the time to visit are generally those that never occur to tourists. There is hidden treasure in this city. It is all around . . . and concealed in plain sight.