Where we're sitting, on a gentle hill at the top of Long Meadow near the entrance to Prospect Park at Grand Army Plaza, is in shadow, but further south of us is still bathed in warm, golden light shining off the greenery of lawn and trees. Toddlers stumble like drunks over the grass, a dog runs pell mell after a ball and then refuses to give it up once he's captured it, and we sit in the shade and watch the shadows lengthen into dusk.
The summer heat has the dog shedding her undercoat, and we run our fingers through her fur, pulling out handfuls of fine gray down that floats away on the wind, hopefully to soften the nests of innumerable birds.
I get more and more enthusiastic as tufts and chunks of fur waft away in my hands, until Katie makes me stop, as the fur is starting to drift into a nearby soccer game and, I imagine, into the noses and mouths of a bunch of soccer moms.
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