Victor Kerlow Dear Diary:
On the first day of spring, I was walking across Central Park, nearing the West Side, in the low 80s just below the Pinetum. It was very still, with a sharp chill holding the bare tree branches fast against a pale blue sky. A woman came walking toward me on the narrow, curvy asphalt path, both of us moving briskly, minding the time. Just as we came within nodding distance, a soft fluttery call drifted faintly down from the high trees.
We both stopped dead, facing each other like long-ago friends suddenly rediscovered. Silently we waited for the call to come again.
“It’s a flicker,†I said.
“Red-bellied,†she said. “I love that call.â€
And we moved on.
Read all recent entries and our updated submissions guidelines. Reach us via e-mail diary@nytimes.com and follow @NYTMetro on Twitter using the hashtag #MetDiary.
