A humorous meme of the past week reminded me of a popular song of the mid-1960s that baby boomers will recognize. (For the rest of you: Just Google it, okay?) That line lingered in my mind out here in northern New Jersey as I looked out over the Hackensack River from Foschini Park.
This past summer, even with COVID-19 raging, the park
was heavily used by walkers. It was a different story late this afternoon, with
only three other people around while I was there. (One, oddly enough, was practicing
his golf swing in the gravelly parking lot.)
The emptiness was borne in on me as I walked on the
wooden planks that formed the path on the riverfront park’s perimeter. With
nobody near me, the sound of my footsteps echoed all the more loudly around me.
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