You step out of the museum, your head full of Rembrandt, of Pharaohs’ tombs, and Chinese jade. The sky is blue, the air crisp and the traffic on Fifth Avenue hurtles by. You walk down the broad stone steps and turn right headed downtown. At the corner you make another right and enter the park under the trees. The park is alive with light and shadows. Mothers wearing high healed boots push strollers while lovers caress on rock outcroppings soaking up the sun. Old men in business suits carry newspapers. Joggers with sinewy legs trot past their eyes fixed ahead. Coming out from under the trees the reflecting pool shimmers and model sail boats skim across the surface their prows kissing the water as they race each other in ever widening circles. Soon you are walking under a stone bridge and find yourself at the entrance to the zoo under a clock where two bronze bears are chiming the hour with bronze hammers. Tourists sit on benches and watch while seals flip in their pool and a ragged woman sleeps, her arms outspread beside her shopping cart of unidentifiable valuables. It has been twenty blocks but it is a bit too soon when you reach the end of the park with Fifth Avenue on your left, its hotels and banks reflecting the sun while the street vendors ahead hawk their imitation jewelry and I LOVE NY t-shirts.