Reflection #4



Rain, Rain Go Away


This reflection accompanies surveying Lindsay Park during one of the eight weekends that New York City received tropical rain. I wanted to observe Lindsay Park in a state of ‘wet’ or receiving precipitation.



Lindsay Park does not drain well because there is nowhere for the water to go. Each building has a massive parking lot by Brooklyn Standards. While the area is relatively large, one must wonder why the residents of Lindsay Park are so profoundly committed to automobile ownership. Beyond having thousands of impermeable square feet at your doorstep, how have these parcels not been converted to towers above a parking structure? As I continue to investigate the surrounding area during another wet weekend, I notice that the few green spaces that do exist are now pooling themselves. Water pools in tree beds and on uneven sidewalks. It pools where the sidewalks meet the street at intersections and in the bulging, tortured knots of root that have conformed to the cement quadrangles that bind the trees they are a part of.

The synthetic turf athletic field at Sternberg Park is soaked, not merely wet. When I push my foot into the turf, water rises up and out as if I’m squeezing a sponge in the sink. The pebble dog run has standing water, making it unlikely that dog owners will allow their furry companions off lead until it has dried. There have been numerous weekends in a row of rain by this point but the streets are still empty. There are no birds to watch. The sounds are the patter of rain on my hood, the whoosh of a wheeled vehicle moving down Leonard Street, or the rumble of the J/M/Z along Broadway.

This foray into rain will not be my shortest observation, that will be later in November when the cold has started to set in, but it will be the loneliest. I will not see anyone else during the 45 minutes I’m out until I head to 109 Montrose to procure coffee from my friend James, the manager of Drink Young Coffee. I am wet and cold now, but we will chat as the neighbors and friends we are. Catching up and cracking jokes before I trek the handful of blocks home to change into warm dry clothes.


From the relative warmth of my apartment I wonder what will happen to Lindsay Park as the climate continues to change and the rain continues to get worse. Neighbors in my apartment building already suffer from flooded basements at the thought of rain. Will Lindsay Park be able to adapt? I have heard that generating enough revenue to operate the co-op has become challenging over the past decade. They are repairing the facade of all seven towers currently, will residents be willing to fork over more money to implement green infrastructure? Can they afford not to? Maybe all it will take is outlasting our current mayor. I suppose only time will tell. My hope is that Lindsay Park can adapt and sustain, it is a true diamond in the rough. An assemblage that I consider the best collective neighbor I have had in my brief time on this planet.