Sunday in Flushing

Sunday, I took the 7 train to its terminal stop and then the Q25 bus to the end of the line. My destination was the Hermon MacNeil Park, a 29 acre patch of land on the northwest corner of Queens.

I got off to a late start. I woke up and read in bed before having breakfast and slowly making my way towards the shower. It wasn't until afternoon that I left the house and made my way to the 6 train. When I emerged from the train at Main Street, Flushing, I was starved. Wandering the nearby streets, I found a restaurant on the corner of 41st and Main that was bustling with activity. A soup bowl was affixed to the top of the building, the word "MONSTER" spelled out in colorful letters, though I forget the name of the restaurant.

After a short wait I was seated before an extensive menu. I looked around to see what people were eating. A woman beside me was eating the steamed duck country style. The dish topped the center column of the menu. The waiter came by; I ordered it. I added a steamed sticky rice as well.

The duck was delicious. The woman beside me finished her plate, paid, and left. Another woman took her place and moments later another serving of duck was before her. The sticky rice was great.

Sated, I went to wait for the bus, riding it past a Toys'R'Us and movie theater before it wound its way into more residential areas. I came close to falling asleep and then we were there. I found a shaded spot under a tree and wrote letters and read. Occasionally, I would pause to watch planes on their approach, the New York City skyline serving as a backdrop.

As the sun began to set and I packed up to go home. I just missed a bus as I approached the stop, and so I waited and watched as a jazz band set up for a sunset concert. Older people were dropped off with lawn chairs and snacks as a line of cars snaked by the park.

Back in Flushing, I ate dinner at the Flushing mall, snacking first on sao bin yo tiao and then a spicy beef noodle soup from a Sichuanese stall. The noodles were thick and doughy. A part of me hoped for across the bridge noodles, and then realized that Chengdu is not in Yunnan. I had confused my capitals. Posted by eku at August 1, 2005 12:09 PM