LIX.

Everyone was out this weekend, Italian tourists leaning in across my head for a better look at the subway map, boys leaping like young hobbits from rock to rock in the southern part of the park, drummers clustered around a bench beating out a rhythm, lithe dancers hopping and spinning on rollerskates. Couples lay draped across each other on blankets, a family tossed a huge red ball back and forth, setting it like an enormous volleyball. An old man played the accordion for spare change near the model boat pond; four or five musicians sat in a circle by the statue of Hans Christian Andersen, dividing up their earnings of the afternoon. One noodled on the trumpet for a curious little boy.

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