It was a cold Saturday night in February. Some 200 New Yorkers carefully made their way to the reservoir (水库) in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the magical snowy owl, who had touched down in the park the week before in what was reported as the first visit there by the species in more than 130 years.
Except for a few excited screams from children, people were quiet—patiently awaiting the owl's arrival at the reservoir's north gatehouse. The snowy owl did not disappoint. She flew down from the darkness and surveyed the water and the people holding phones and cameras before taking off into the night to the applause of her many fans. They simply wanted to see this lovely creature whose improbable appearance seemed to signify hope after the lockdown
New Yorkers who had long taken Central Park for granted felt a renewed love for this rectangle of green in the heart of the big city and, of course, its amazing wildlife. That the park is a beautiful and essential refuge is something that humans have only come to fully appreciate during these recent times of uncertainty.
Central Park was originally planned and constructed during another difficult time in the nation's history—in the years before and during the American Civil War. Unlike many European parks that had originally been built for the aristocracy (贵族), Central Park was designed as a public space. In its chief architect Frederick Law Olmsted's words, the poor and rich alike could "easily go there after their day's work is done" and "stroll for an hour, seeing, hearing, and feeling nothing of the noise of the streets."
As spring turns into summer, we see people sitting on the grass or benches—catching some sun, having family picnics, or tapping away on their laptops and iPads. Just being other people in Central Park gave us a sense of community—the sense that we would somehow persevere.
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