We were strolling on the small trails through Prospect Park on Christmas afternoon.
We heard it before we saw it - the slap-echo of rock 'n' roll Christmas songs piped through loudspeakers, bouncing off ice and rink railings, mixed with the scraping of skates, a lot of laughter, a few squeals and screams.
The winter afternoon sun was low and bright. My hands were cold. We saw a rainbow kite lodged in a tree. I couldn't even tell you which Stevie Wonder Christmas song was playing. Everything sounded wonderful.