[Summer Postcard Series] A Native Meadow in Central Park (I 💙 NYC)

Dear Soul-Sibling,

I'm obsessed with native meadows and have been for years.

Last week I returned to one of my favorites.

She's still young and only in her second growing season.

The Dene Slope is a vibrant native meadow that features a trail with rustic seating and stunning views, in Central Park (The City).

In addition to a variety of grasses and wildflowers, the Dene Slope features a trail that leads to a rocky outcrop at the top of the hill and a rustic bench made by the Conservancy’s three-person rustic crew.

The trail is accessible by wheelchair between the western entrance to the Dene Slope (near the East Drive at 66th Street) and the bench. The outcrop and bench provide views of the pastoral surroundings and Midtown’s skyscrapers.

A meadow is a field populated with tall grasses and herbaceous plants. Though the first several years of creating a native meadow take a lot of work—primarily planting, weeding, and watering—they are quite low-maintenance once established.

It takes three to five growing seasons to establish a meadow.

Once established, tall meadow grasses prevent self-seeding invasive species from taking over, and they don’t require mowing. In these ways, native meadows can be less resource-intensive to maintain than lawns.

The Dene Slope contains rocky, dry soil—not ideal as a picnicking lawn, and difficult to mow because of its steep terrain. Therefore, it provided the perfect spot for the Conservancy to introduce a native meadow, which can thrive in almost any environment. Although the North Meadow Butterfly Gardens also feature native grasses and plants, the Dene Slope is the largest meadow of its kind in Central Park.

Now in its second growing season, the Dene Slope is showing a diverse variety of blooms.

The Conservancy planted an abundance of native flowers in the meadow such as white false indigo, showy tick trefoil, common yarrow, lanceleaf coreopsis, hairy beardtongue, and button eryngo. Other native flowers that weren’t planted but have appeared include swamp milkweed, common boneset, cardinal flower, and blue vervain.

The Dene Slope’s gardener, Mimi Gunderson, and roughly a dozen volunteers have worked for over two years to get it to the way it looks today. “Volunteers are critical,” Mimi says, “because there is so much going on and so much that needs to be done, especially while the meadow is being established.”

This unique project allowed the Conservancy to not only create a vibrant destination for visitors, but to restore aspects of the Park’s character that had been lost over time.

In fact, native meadows were a common feature in the Park as part of its original design.

Summer and rainstorms are welcome friends as I return to New City with Harvey and her Dads.

As if we don't skip a beat, we're back in rhythm with art, music, dance and playing make believe.

She continues to steal my heart. We've decided to practice different hair styles and she certainly says, with 4.8 year old attitude and independence, she has no interest in exploring salads or sandwiches.

Rainy days are perfect for painting upstairs in my attic room.

Harvey asked several times if we could engage with a Wendy Mac art tutorial on YouTube.

It's interesting when she picks right up with me, on very specific details and activities.

As if an invisible thread of shared information beckons our connection and her unique development. Paving a path for her future contributions and preferences. I love when she asks to see my "little book" (Playbill) upon return from Wednesdays on Broadway.

She naturally moves to Dad and watches weather patterns on his app so they can predict the exact arrival of rain. Then pivots to the garden with Papa where they feed the flowers and Harvey makes soup in a spare planter with soil and plant parts.

Harvey officially graduated from preschool and loved the cap and gown.

Her class (the Garden Room) sang and danced to Rihanna's "Diamonds" and "Best Day Of My Life" (American Authors). Pretty much every day we listen to both of these songs as she performs and practices.

"Shine bright like a diamond!"

Her voice is emerging and we're having conversations about the difference between her head and chest voice.

I fell in love with this poem by May Sarton:

I thought of happiness, how it is woven
Out of the silence in the empty house each day
And how it is not sudden and it is not given
But is creation itself like the growth of a tree.
No one has seen it happen, but inside the bark
Another circle is growing in the expanding ring.
No one has heard the root go deeper in the dark,
But the tree is lifted by this inward work
And its plumes shine, and its leaves are glittering.

So happiness is woven out of the peace of hours
And strikes its roots deep in the house alone:
The old chest in the corner, cool waxed floors,
White curtains softly and continually blown
As the free air moves quietly about the room;
A shelf of books, a table, and the white-washed wall—
These are the dear familiar gods of home,
And here the work of faith can best be done,
The growing tree is green and musical.

For what is happiness but growth in peace,
The timeless sense of time when furniture
Has stood a life's span in a single place,
And as the air moves, so the old dreams stir
The shining leaves of present happiness?
No one has heard thought or listened to a mind,
But where people have lived in inwardness
The air is charged with blessing and does bless;
Windows look out on mountains and the walls are kind.

May you shine bright like a diamond this week.

Remember, happiness is not sudden nor is it given.

Happiness is a creation itself like the growth of a tree, and growth in peace.

I'll see you next week with another postcard edition of my newsletter.

Yours Bluely,

Alexander