My central park

Back in the dark ages of my life in Milan, when I’d just come to the city and was anything but happy, a Romanian healer told me that I needed to “hug a tree” to absorb the positive energy of the city. I scoffed at this notion, unable to call to mind anything other than the dirty, long-suffering trunks I’d seen lining Via Vincenzo Monti from the tram. “I’d hug a tree if I could find one worth hugging,” I’d thought bitterly.


Little did I know at the time that, a mere kilometer or two away from me, spread the beautiful Parco Sempione, Milan’s Central Park. It’s much smaller than New York’s sprawling landmark, but has some of the same features: gently curving paths, rocky rises, meadows, laghetti (little lakes), bucolic vistas, and the required views of the surrounding city.


Flanked on one side by Il Castello Sforzesco, on another by l’Arco della Pace, and on a third by the Triennale (Museum of Contemporary Design), the park is the perfect place to while away the weekend hours or to regain the semblance of sanity in the midst of another hectic week.

This morning the park was beyond beautiful. Unusually quiet—except for a Chinese wedding (involving the occasional firecracker) and a very few nannies strolling with their charges—it seemed to be holding its breath. Listening. Waiting. Giving itself over to quiet meditation.

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5 Responses to My central park

  1. Mom Moore says:

    Beyond words. What an incredibly beautiful place!

  2. beautiful. so relaxing, even with a moody sky. meanwhile, hugging is always good advice….

  3. ps: i just noticed: in all but one photo, there are NO people! perfect! you’re very own park!!! congratulations.

    • Yes! It was REALLY WEIRD, but there were very few people there. And such a beautiful day too! I’ve never seen it so pristine and lovely and…empty. Not that emptiness makes it beautiful. It’s also great to be there when it’s full of life and stuff going on. But that morning it was like that. Really quiet and really, really beautiful. I wondered if anyone would notice how weird that was. (On the weekends, it’s packed. You can hardly ride your bicycle through it.)

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