Good morning everyone! As I write this, it's Tuesday morning; my shoes are full of sand, my clothes are soaked in the coffee I couldn't get to drink, I'm running on three hours of sleep, and I'm delighted. One caveat before I begin: there are tangential thoughts ahead. Many of them. We still cool? Good; let's get started!
So at 5am this morning I headed out the door in more layers than anyone can know what to do with. The moon, if anyone cares to note, was utterly majestic; it's a crescent right now and Flatbush was so dead that you could actually see a constellation right near it. And where was I bound before the sunrise on a Tuesday? Well. Originally, my plan had been to do some mildly disallowed urban exploring of an abandoned movie theatre a few miles away. And then. And then I discovered the sad truth: that building, though abandoned, has quite a bit of security around it. So I had to form a contingency plan, and fast. So after googling for ten minutes straight, I resolved that I'd give Dead Horse Bay a shot, though now people are allowed to enter the park.
As I walked down Flatbush and approached Bay Parkway, a wave of memory washed over me. The last time I had been down that far on Flatbush had been when Kyle's mom drove me and him back from Thanksgiving. And that got me thinking of how she had invited me over for Thanksgiving, and how I spent last Christmas with her and she had bought me presents so I would have stuff to open alongside the family. And in the classic manner with which the mind works, I began thinking about the parents in general who have gone above and beyond in the treatment of their children's friends. Everyone seems to have at least one set of parents they refer to as their "second mother and father" or something of the like - parents of their best friends who have taken them under wing - and I just want to give a quick shout-out to say these parents are amazing. Think: no pregnant woman or future father goes to a nine-month "How to Parent" school; they have to figure it out as they go. And to then ace parenting well enough that they extend their empathy and kindness to children that aren't even theirs - this is incredible. Hey, parents; thanks.
Moving on and back to dead horses. I finally got to the area google maps told me the park was located in, and there was nothing there. I was still on a long stretch of highway. But then. But then I saw a beaten down path, no doubt made by delinquent teenagers. This was my best bet, I figured, and so I took off. Pro tip: always trust dumb teenagers; they've probably grown up in the area, and so they know where to plow down paths that won't be detected by the authorities.
|It felt like a horror movie in the best way!|
After about ten minutes, I stumbled upon a clearing. And then I felt terrified; there was a camp set up, one that was obviously not just teens pitching a tent in the middle of the woods. There were clothes hung up on branches, and I tried to get close enough to get some swell pictures. And that's how I woke the person inside the tent and abandoned that venture. Sorry guys, I'm no adventure photographer; I'm a young woman in the middle of the woods and no one knew even within a five mile radius where I was. So these are the only pictures I have.
|It felt like a horror movie in the worst way!|
I backed away and started creeping in the direction I had come from. Horror movie 101 pro tip: If you stumble upon something/one terrifying in the woods, don't run; the thing/person undoubtedly knows those woods better than you ever will, and so if you alert them to your presence, they will catch you as you get ridiculously lost and they will go all horror movie on you. So I didn't start running until I was on a clearer path, and then you better believe I fled.
Back on the highway, I kept walking. The sun was rising; seeing as how my morning had gone thus far, I should have turned back. And then:
|Isn't it steller?|