Brooklyn: Flea Market and Dumbo Picnic

I lived in Brooklyn for four years, and it never crossed my mind to explore any of the culture it had to offer. While I lived there, my focus was on school, and any time I didn't spend there I would take the train to Manhattan.

A year ago, my dear friend Tamar (seemingly switching places with me) moved to Clinton Hill, just as I made my move to Washington Heights. Tamar has absorbed herself in the colorful culture of Brooklyn, riding her bike to the Fort Greene green market on Saturday mornings, the library and gardens, a myriad of eclectic coffee shops in the area and the Brooklyn Flea Market.

This past Sunday afternoon, I met Tamar on the corner of Hanson Place and Flatbush Ave for my first visit to the Brooklyn Flea, which she assured me is the perfect place for me. In fact it was! I am not sure if I have been to another place that had as many of my random passions held together by one string of tables: Just as I entered, the narrow hallway was flanked with tables holding precious items that I wanted to possess, to my left a stand of typewriters, to my right a moss covered bench holding quaint glass bell jars. As I gleefully walked through the hall, I sucked in the scent of vintage leathers and home made soaps, marveled at the flavors of miniature cupcakes and was astonished at the paper quality of century old lithographs.

I had to reign myself in to prevent me from buying everything in sight, but what really caught my eye was an Olympia "De Luxe" typewriter from the late 50's or early 60's. It was beautiful and I have wanted one for years. It is in my nature to long for old world things, for mementos of an era in which I did not reside. I bought the typewriter and lugged it to Dumbo, our next destination.

It was a lovely day for a picnic, and I longed to sit with the grass between my toes and try out my new precious prize! Tamar and I stopped by a grocery store and picked up bread and goat cheese, figs and grapes, apparently I was in a Grecian mood. We sat on the steps leading to the shore and watched little kids frolic by the edge of the rocky, moss laden shore dipping their unclothed feet in the somewhat foamy water as their dogs paddled around only to come ashore and splash every adult in sight. It was a lovely sight of young families and embracing couples taking their wedding photos by the shade of a fruit laden tree.

Daisy met us in the park as we lay around looking at the sky and we took her daughter to the kids park down the hill. The jungle gym is shaped like a sail boat, with three decorative masts reaching high into the clouds, reminiscent either of Peter Pan's flying pirate ship, or the sail boats that must have glided past the land that holds this park even years before the Brooklyn bridge was ever built. Lola at first was hesitant about splashing around in the puddles of the water fixture therein, but soon became so comfortable and enjoyed the park to such an extent that she had to be dragged out over Daisy's shoulder after several failed bribes with ice cream and treats. We did not leave the park until the sunset hit the horizon.