Here are three portentous things I saw in the fifteen minutes it took to walk to Metropolitan Bakery, then stand in Rittenhouse Park and eat an oatmeal cookie (which have gone up .50, to $1.75):
1: WHITE PIGEON.
This pigeon was a marvel of whiteness. I saw it right where Rittenhouse Alley meets 20th street, and chased it with my camera phone, but it kept hustling nervously away. It was all white except for dark gray bands on its wings. To compare this pigeon's whiteness to new snow is a cliche but it really did have that cold bright color.
2: BAND OF GREEN IN THE GRASS
Rittenhouse Square is still really green. Some trees have lost their leaves but most are in full leaf and very green. The sun was past its zenith as I was leaving the park (it was 4:45), and the sky was partly cloudy. A little light was shooting into the park from vantages between buildings. I saw a vibrant band of green in the otherwise dull grass. It cut one corner off the park, and was so bright and lively, it seemed to have not only physical mass but also personality: self-satisfied, and rich with humor.
3: GLOWING PEOPLE IN THE PARK
I walked down Locust Street and turned back to look again at the park, while talking on my phone to Jane. The last rays of light that were streaming into the park hit three people, illuminating them, in an otherwise coolly shadowed park. The wind was blowing, and for a moment the three people glowed gold. From my viewpoint, half a block down Locust, the people looked very ordinary, walking against the wind, but also messianic. They couldn't have known how they looked, glowing in the golden light, against the cool blowing leaves. Then the light evened out again.
